Groundling 3: The Taking of Names
by ardavenport
Summary: Onie Thatcher has settled into her life as the oldest Herald-trainee in the Collegium when a new student arrives who might lead her to the origins of her fatherless nephew and an unexpected Choosing brings a new person to the Queen's service.
1. Chapter 1

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 1**

* * *

Cook Tamira stomped in late without a word and not a glance at the stoked fires, the baskets of fruit and berries, the eggs, meats, the clean bowls and utensils ready to start. Onie Thatcher sighed, unimpressed. The two Herald-Trainees helping with breakfast exchanged nervous looks and continued stacking the dishes on the dumb-waiter to winch up to the common room above.

Onie got the cleaver and knives out and started on the bacon and ham. Tamira wasn't going to be wielding any sharp implements this morning. No one thought that she would ever hurt anyone, but Onie could see it in Tamira's eyes. Her motions, her whole body radiated the desire to make someone else suffer and hurt when she was angry. And with Cook Tamira it was always the same thing that made her blood boil, her family, particularly her parents. Cook lived in their small house in Haven. Old and infirm, her parents lived mostly on the charity of their children and a drunken lodger in their attic. And apparently Tamira had inherited her bad temper because anyone who had met her parents, sister or brother reported that they were among the most unpleasant people they had ever dealt with.

At first, Onie had wondered why the Collegium would put up with anyone who so regularly spread such ill-will around whenever she had a fight with her relatives. But the answer became clear as Onie settled into her Herald training along with her assigned chores at the Collegium. When Tamira was angry, she threw herself totally into her work. The joke in the Common Room was that if there was a storm down below there was a feast up above.

As her first summer in Haven turned to fall, Onie had improved her kitchen skills ten-fold just from watching and working for Tamira. She sometimes felt like she learned as much about food and cooking as she did about Heralding upstairs. Her letters back to her home village were filled with recipes and instructions about proper oils and spices, marinades and pastries. At first Onie's chores had been split between sewing and repairing and the kitchen. But all the other Herald-Trainees noticed very quickly that the oldest Herald-Trainee in the Collegium would hold her ground on Cook's bad days. They would not only offer to trade their kitchen-duty for her sewing, some would offer their chore-hours for hers two-for-one. Housekeeper Gaytha rearranged the schedules so that all of Onie's chores were in the kitchen. It wasn't much to Onie's liking but she liked seeing the big woman bullying shy twelve-year-olds even less.

Tamira emerged from her office minus her wool cloak, her dark, limp hair covered with her usual white scarf, a clean apron over her patched gray and brown dress. She got a bowl and flour and started taking out her anger on the eggs for the flat-cake batter. One of the Trainees started filling pots for boiling water while another hurried to get the butter and oats. They followed Onie's example of silently sticking to their duties and not giving Tamira any opportunity to use her sharp tongue. They all knew their jobs.

Soon, the butter and meat were snapping and crackling in the pans followed by the flat cakes. The fruit was sliced and loaded into bowls with the berries. They had the platters nearly full and ready to winch upstairs when one of the Trainees, a young boy named Clem suddenly started and nearly dropped a platter of cheese and bread on the side board next to the dumb waiter. Tamira glared at him crossly, but Onie knew that look.

His Companion was speaking to him.

She put a platter of eggs and meat down, pulled out her spectacles from their leather case in an inside pocket, put them on and stood on a chair, looking out the high window at ground level into the gardens outside and saw many, many slender white legs and silver hooves. The Companions. . . .

"Aaay!" Tamira shouted after them, but her three helpers were already out the door, heading for the stairwell at a run. Upstairs, other Herald-Trainees poured down from upstairs as well, the older ones and a few Heralds in Whites pelting past the classrooms to the outer doors.

The crowd of Heralds and Trainees matched the sea of white filling the garden. The Companions, ALL the Companions it seemed filled the pathways, the bridge to Companion's Field, heads high, whinnying and stamping their feet.

A Companion screamed and all heads turned toward the gate out of the Palace and Collegium grounds.

"Let him out! Let him out!" Two Heralds, one man without a shirt on, ran toward a shocked guard in blue. The gate opened and three Companions escaped. One was Rolan, the Companion of the Queen's Own, but Onie did not know the other two. Onie could read the expressions in the wild eyes of the Companions and Chosen.

This was a Choosing, but a special Choosing in a very different - frightening? - way.

Herald-Trainees and Heralds started to filter into the sea of white horse-bodies and Onie looked for her own Lillis. He Ground-Gift gave her the direction and after pushing past brilliant white heads, flanks, shoulders and tails, she spotted Lillis's blue eyes in the crowd.

"Wha' kind'a Choosin' is this?"

Lillis's frightened whinny worried that the Companion might be too late to reach his Chosen, a dire prospect.

"Who's Choosin'?"

Herald Gregri, who had only recently gotten his Whites, stood with his own Companion, Undra, his plain features pale. "It's Hyer. He's Choosing. And his new Chosen's in danger."

"I don' know tha' one 'o tha Companions."

Gregri shook his head. "You wouldn't. You hardly ever see him. He never leaves Companion's Field." He gulped and steadied himself, his hand on Undra's neck; she touched her nose to his side. "He's Chosen before; years before I was. But his Chosen . . . he died."

Onie's eyes went wide. Next to her, Lillis nodded.

"He was young and sickly, a boy named Ador Mairdin and he was a powerful FarSeer. Some say that was why he was small and weak; it took too much out of him. And one winter, he caught a fever and the Healers couldn't save him. But on his death bed, he begged Hyer to live and that his new Chosen would need him when the time came." Undra nuzzled his cheek and his hand went up to touch her cheek. "So Hyer lived, though some say he nearly wasted away from mourning for Ador."

"I never heared about no Companion livin' past'is Chosen."

Gregri gave her a half grin. "The Bards sang plenty of odes about it. But the songs were so sad, a lot of people didn't care to hear them more than once. Some Heralds wouldn't stay in the room to hear them at all."

All around them, Chosen and Companions were finding each other, some just for a look and a reassuring pat, others for heartfelt hugs. And there were a number of un-partnered Companions, eying the reunions speculatively. Soon enough the instructors from the Collegium and some of the senior Heralds started calling for everyone to go back inside and the Companions herded themselves back toward the bridge.

Lillis whuffed into Onie's hair and her hand slipped through the soft fine hairs of her white mane as her Companion turned to leave with the rest. A few Heralds sat bare-back, going with them to Companions Field. Many people dawdled, watching them go and more than a few Companions turned sapphire eyes back for a last look.

Onie went back to the Collegium and back down the stairs to the kitchen. Surprisingly, the seriousness of what had happened seemed to have cooled Cook's anger. She didn't say anything about it and there was real sympathy in her eyes as they winched up the platters of food to the Common Room. The rest of breakfast was uneventful. The food went up and the plates, platters and pitchers came back empty. None of the other Herald-Trainees in the kitchen knew much about Ador and Hyer, other than the minimum. Ador had died before any of them were even born, let alone Chosen. How many years had Hyer been waiting for his new Chosen? They spoke in reverent tones the little they knew about Hyer, as if he were a scary legend in Companion's Field that was only spoken about late at night over a campfire.

They all ate quickly and soon enough, Onie put away her apron and went to her room to prepare for her first class, Valdemar History.

When she arrived at the classroom upstairs, the usual pre-class chatter was subdued, even among the non-Herald students. Everyone knew about Hyer's Choosing. Valdemar History was taught to all students at the Collegium, so the class was a mix of Herald-Trainess, Healer-Trainees, Bard-Trainees, and Unaffiliated Blue students (either the children of the highborn or sponsored scholars). Onie nodded to a few friends, but hurried toward where one particular Unaffiliated boy had already taken a seat at a front long table in the classroom.

He looked no older than fourteen and he had arrived just after Harvest Festival. His name was Roston Jestren and he was a younger son of some highborn family from the north and sent down to Haven to learn from his cousin about the trade in the produce from the family estate. They had chatted a few times and shared a couple of study sessions with a group of others who had trouble making sense of the histories, laws and the jumble of names and places on the maps that they were all expected to know. He did not seem very interested in any of his classes, which was not unusual for one of the Blues. Often they were the offspring of the highborn who were thrust into an education by parents who expected them to do more than hang about with their friends at taverns. But this boy did not seem to be one of those. He did not complain about his parents wanting him to 'better himself'; he never mentioned his family at all except for his older cousin in town. Onie always saw him come and go from class alone. He always seemed tense and watchful and he had no friends that she had seen.

She sensed that he was interested in her. If she did not sit next to him, he seemed to find a way to sit next to her. And he would most often initiate a conversation, usually some shared sympathy about their classes or speculation about when first snow would be, a perpetual seasonal interest for the whole of Valdemar. Possibly he was interested in knowing a Herald in general though she wasn't sure if it was just curiosity or if he thought she might bring him status or more friends.

Onie was certainly interested in him. Because in every way, in body and face, he looked exactly like an older version of Onie Thatcher's nephew, her sister's fatherless son, Sami.

* * *

**- - - End Part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 2**

* * *

"So, Onie," Roston started as they left the class together; he had a high voice, a boy on the verge of entering manhood. "Do you know about the Companion who went out into Haven to Choose?" He looked back down at the ground again, slouching as if he expected to be rebuffed or ignored completely.

Standing, he was thin and only a little shorter than she with room for more growth. She wondered if her nephew would be tall; he had always been a bit small and slight. They walked together out of the Collegium with the others leaving the history class.

She shrugged. "Na mores'n anyone else says. Hyer's a Companion whose Chosen died an'ee's gone out ta Choose another."

The morning history class had asked their instructor about it and Herald Grader reluctantly told them an abbreviated version of the tale. There was no new information than what Onie had already heard except that Ador had died over twenty-five years ago. A young Bard-Trainee blurted out the question to Herald Grader; had had known Ador? He looked about the right age, late thirties-early forties with graying thinning hair and a white patch covering one eye with a little bit of pale scar showing just above it.

"Yes." Grader stared the class down with his one good, blue eye. "And his death was a terrible loss to all of us, but the worst of it fell on Hyer. It was terrible beyond what most of you can or should have to imagine; and it is still painful for Hyer, even after all this time. So I hope that all of you will refrain from spreading any gossip around about this morning. Now can we get on with today's lesson?" There were no more questions and he went on with the day's lecture on the southern border wars.

"Oh." Roston looked disappointed as the walked together on the path. "I guess I thought you'd have heard more about it, since you're a Herald and all."

Onie knew what it had felt like that morning with all the Companions feeling Hyer's desperation to get to his new Chosen. But she did not feel comfortable talking about it now. She had never thought about it before, but the bond between Chosen and Companion suddenly felt intensely private now. "Have'na been here too long meself," she answered. "Didna know who Hyer was 'til this mornin'."

"Really?" Roston looked up again, surprised. "But you're so old." The words obviously came out before he realized how they would sound and he immediately looked like he wanted to take them back. But Onie gave him credit for being honest.

"Some Companions Choose late. Prince Daren an' Captain Kerowyn were even older'n me afore they gots Chosen."

"But they're Heralds. I mean . . . they didn't have to go to classes and they're real Heralds . . . " Cringing again, he stopped after stumbling over 'real Heralds'. He looked down at the garden pathway again.

"Well, aye. Prince Daren's a prince, an'as had all tha royal learnin'. And Captain Kerowyn knows all there is about war. Me, I was a tavern cook. I's gots a bit 'o learnin' ta do afore I'm ready ta be passin' out law." Onie had not directly asked how long she would be at the Collegium before getting her Whites; she did not think it would make the length of her education any shorter to ask about it and might make her look petty, being more interested in being promoted than in the actual learning that she needed. Dean Elcarth had implied that it could be as little as two years. Depending on how well her studies went.

"Oh. Is that why you always have kitchen duty?" Roston had asked if she wanted to join him for midday meal. But since she couldn't hold a meal down if she ate it on the second floor of the Collegium, she could never accept his offer, no matter how much she wished to get to know him better and find out about his family.

"Mostly. An' most 'o tha' younger Trainees do na care fer workin' wi' Cook. When she's in a foul temper, she donna care who gets hurt wi' it. I seen worse in tha tavern, so most'o tha young ones was tradin' their chores wit' me ta avoid'er, so I gots all kitchen chores now."

"Really? The food is good. Better than the Cook we got at the house."

"Oh, aye, Tamira's a good Cook. Best I ev'r seen. An' I learned a lot more'an I ever though could be 'bouts cookin' from'er. I s'pose that's why theys puts up wit'er moods when they come, but I don' like tha look in'er eye when she's vexed ov'r somethin'."

"I know people like that," he muttered. "But you just stand up to her?"

Onie shrugged. "First day I starts'ere she yells at me and I just do me work like I's supposed ta and look back at'er ta tell'er tha' I'm na afraid'o'er 'cause I knows I havena done nothin' wrong."

"I wish I could do that."

"Aye, ye can," she assured the downcast boy. "It's not hard when ye sets ye mind ta it."

"It's not that easy. You're all Heralds. You've been Chosen and you've got all kinds of Magic." His tone spoke of experience. "For the rest of us, if we don't back down, we get pushed down. Hard."

"I gots na Magic. Least nothin' I kin use." Her Ground Gift seemed to come with just as many problems as it had advantages. But she had no argument back for the rest of what he said because it was true. Being Chosen made her and the other Heralds special, the kind of blessing that usually happened only to people in ballads.

"Oh." He looked up, surprised. "Then you aren't a Magic user? I've seen you with some of the foreign Mages."

"Oh, tha." The Mages at the Collegium had made her into a project. Because of her Ground Gift, none of their mind Magics or illusions worked on her. But they seemed determined to find some spell or Magic that would. At first they called upon her every few days, but that had slowed down quite a bit after they exhausted their best known Magics and she now only heard from them when they had a new idea. The last one had been an introduction to a rather touchy _dyheli_ named Resh, who was as smart as any person and as like a deer as a Companion was like a horse. Resh had glared at her quite a bit while a line of snickering Mages watched. One of the Mages finally told Onie that the _dyheli_ was trying to compel her to run, but it had not worked any better than the Mages' spells. Onie thought that Resh had been a bit rude when he stomped out of the room with his nose and tail in the air.

"I gots a Gift tha they can na work out and they keeps tryin' new things on it." The novelty had worn off a while ago for her.

"Oh. But you know them. The foreign Mages that is? The Hawkbrothers, I mean?"

There was much more than casual interest in Roston's eager tone; Onie could hear that. Roston was very interested in Hawkbrothers. It was the first time she recalled him mentioning them at all.

"Aye, I knows some Hawkbrothers. An more'n a few other peculiar types." Aside from the flamboyantly dressed Tayledras, she had also been presented to Mage Gryphons, one of whom she was told was from the formerly hidden land of Iftel. She had said very little to the creatures though she had been polite. She had never imagined being introducted to any non-Human. Onie had found herself with no words to say back to them. The Gryphons had been amused, though she wasn't sure if it was because of her wariness or her Ground Gift. They had offered to fly her up in the air and she had replied that she was sure she would quite sincerely die if they did.

They stopped at the pedestal of a garden statue of a Herald. Onie's next class was weapons practice, but there was still time before the bell.

"But I mostly only knows their names an' manners when they comes ta try some new thing on me Gift. Never shared a meal wit' any of 'em." Onie had an idea. "Ye wants ta know 'bouts Hawkbrothers? Ye think ye gots a Mage Gift?"

That startled Roston. "Who, me? No! I mean, I don't think so. I think if I did I'd know by now." he looked away. "At least that might have made things a lot easier," he mumbled.

"Well, if ye're so interested, I kin introduce ye to'em. I knows where they works and ye bein' in the Collegium and all," she gestured to his blue Un-affiliated clothes, "Ye would'na be outta place there. Though they'd want ta ask what ye're talkin' to 'em for."

Suddenly being offered exactly what he wanted, Roston's eyes went wide in shock. "Uh, no, no, no. I don't need to meet them," he lied. "I was just curious; that's all."

Onie shrugged. "Well, if ye changes yer mind, jus' let me know. They're always comin' fer me fer things; I don' see why I can't ask'em fer somethin' back." Leaving the offer open meant that Roston had a chance to ask again. And maybe if she did introduce him to the Tayledras Mages, she could work out how to ask him the delicate question of which one of his relatives was the father of her nephew. If he took offense, if it was a very big family scandal, he could run off and she might never see him again.

They parted and Onie went on to weapons class.

She was early, so she had plenty of time to warm up with some in-place exercises and then a fast-run around the salle. Onie did not like running, and Weaponsmaster Alberich or Captain Kerowyn (or both) yelled at her because she did it so badly with her feet slamming down on the ground, jarring every joint in her body. The Healers had decreed that she could not run without damaging her health, much to the Weaponsmaster's displeasure. She had only partially compensated by learning to walk extremely quickly, similar to how her Companion had learned to trot very fast while always keeping one hoof in contact with the ground. Alberich grumbled that if he set her skirts on fire he could get her to run.

It surprised Onie that she couldn't run for very long without feeling sick and falling over. She could stand and walk as well as anyone. But her old life back in Fair Fields had nor required running. And in retrospect, Onie realized that all the childhood games that she hated most involve running, jumping or hopping. Her one attempt at tree-climbing when she was nine had led to a bad fall and a lot of bruises, but thankfully no broken bones. When she wrote her mother back home about it, her mother's reply had been equal surprise that Onie had not noticed until now; she had always hated certain games as a child and was 'so stubborn about it' that no one ever challenged her. And her parents had been happy that their youngest daughter did not like most of the activities that could lead to injury.

Coming around the last corner, she saw Herald-Trainees Hoolie and Cheeter arriving for class. The blond-haired, blue eyed Hoolie had been Onie's 'mentor' when she first arrived that summer. But since Onie was nearly ten years older than the senior Trainee she had only needed a few weeks of 'mentoring' until she learned all the basics, though they were still friends. The brown-haired, scruffy-chinned Cheeter along with his Companion Thad was one of the best riders in the Collegium and was the assistant to the equitation teacher for all the Trainees. Onie, with her Ground-Gift hobbling her Companion's ability to run, got extra attention from him in those classes.

They both looked serious.

"Somethin' happen?"

"We heard who Hyer Chose," Hoolie said.

"It's a merchant in Haven whose wife died just last night," Cheeter confirmed in a hushed voice. The three of them went into the salle together, Hoolie and Cheeter telling Onie the details they knew. The merchant, whose name they did not know, was high up in the Guild and though he held no official position with the group, his son did. His wife had been ill with a weak heart since last spring and the Healers had done all they could for her. The rumor was that Hyer galloped through the streets of Haven to the merchant's house, leaped a high wall into the garden to reach an open window to the room where the merchant, sitting vigil with his wife's body, was preparing to kill himself. Now the Queen's Own and Dean Elcarth were attending the funeral.

They speculated about what would become of the merchant. If he was Chosen, then he would return to the Palace. But if he really tried to kill himself was he fit to be a Herald? Was he really Chosen after all? Perhaps Hyer saved him to be taken to the Healers? Other Trainees and Collegium students in the salle were talking about the same thing as they put on their practice armor before Alberich cut off their chatter with a shout for them to assemble.

None of them had any time or effort to spare after that as their Karsite instructor led them through a very long session of sword techniques and drills. They all got bruised hands from the lessons on disarming their opponent. Onie did not see how bruises would teach anyone anything; why come to a fight already beat up? But she had never been in a battle and had no words to argue against it. After that came footwork exercises.

Two students with crossed poles held at the ends at ankle height would move them back and forth, forcing the student standing between them to step over them faster and faster until they were hopping around to stay on their feet. Onie could do it without jumping faster than anyone, but eventually even she couldn't pick up her feet one-at-a-time fast enough. The first time she had had done this exercise and had been forced to hop with both feet off the ground she had gotten tripped up after the third step. Now she could last a couple of dozen steps, feeling off-balance, but still upright for each one, before falling. Alberich always seemed to wander by when this happened, a satisfied smile on his scarred face. The Healers said that if she could master this exercise, then she should be able to run as well and the Weaponsmaster seemed impatient for her learn.

Their last exercise was simple sword techniques on straw stuffed dummies. This Onie could do with no problem; she even liked it. Kerowyn and Alberich accepted her technique (at least she got criticized less than most of the others) and she had learned to hit the targets very, very hard. More than a season of riding and weapons training had given Onie muscles in ways that she had never imagined before being Chosen.

When class finished and with their new collections of bruises on their legs and wrists, Onie and the other Herald-Trainees trudged back to the Collegium to wash up and change for noon meal. Since she did not have kitchen duty for that meal, Onie had a little more time to wash the sweat off. She had her own private tub behind screens in the laundry room since she could not climb the stairs to the dormitory where the other Trainees washed.

The artificers had taken some time in working out how she was to get hot water. Onie had said that she could just use buckets to carry the water she needed from the kitchen. The Collegium had large boilers, both in the lower level for the kitchen and on the second floor for washing where the dormitories were. Back home, she and her family had to carry water from an outdoor well to their home and it was icy cold year round. Only on the coldest days, or special occasions did they spare the extra wood to heat it. But the artificers had scoffed at the suggestion, their pride up at the idea that they couldn't figure out a way around such common, low class manual labor. They set up metal pipes, bolted to the walls with metal straps all the way from the kitchen to Onie's tub. Now all she had to do for hot or cold water was turn the handles. Housekeeper Gaytha was embarrassed that she had to use a spare washing tub and promised to find a proper one, but the whole arrangement was such an unimaginable luxury, Onie had no complaint at all.

The hot water for cleaning was most welcome, too. Between weapons training and riding practice, Onie sometimes needed a bath three times a day. She had been assured that Heralds riding circuit, upholding the Queen's law, going from town to town could live as rough as soldiers. But if they were in Haven, at the Collegium or the Palace, they were expected to be clean all the time and never, ever to smell of exercise or Companion-sweat.

Drying herself off, Onie dressed quickly. There were hooks on the screen for both towels and clothes. She hurried to noon meal. Cook Tamira had already retreated to her office to eat and Onie sat with the three Herald-Trainees with kitchen-duty. The talk at the table was all about Companion Hyer's Choice. His new Chosen's name was Bronner Childorn, a respectable merchant with three grown children, and a sickly wife who had just died. Someone from the Childorn household had fetched Hyer's formal saddle and bridle, but no one knew if Childorn would walk or ride for the funeral procession to the temple. There was some rather morbid talk about whether Childorn was about to hang himself or slit his wrists. Onie did not offer any opinion other than that she did not want to speculate about what would have happened to Hyer if he had not arrived in time. That silenced them fairly quickly.

After the meal as she walked toward Companions Stable. Lillis trotted over the bridge over the Terilee River to meet her. Onie gave her a hug.

"Does Companions gossip like people does?" she asked.

Lillis shook her head.

Lie.

Onie knew it was a lie. Lillis knew that Onie knew it was a lie. And Onie knew that the Companions would have their ears pricked up about Hyer and Childorn just as much as everyone in the Collegium and Palace. Lillis averted her sapphire blue eyes and her Chosen sighed.

She put her hand on Lillis's shoulder and they went to the stable together. There they met Saston, the little boy who had been Chosen the same morning that Onie first arrived in Haven, and his Companion, Capar, who was being saddled by a stable boy, his cousin, Barro.

"Onie!" He ran to her. He was small and his Grays had to be cut down extra for him. Unusually young, only six years old when Chosen, Saston was reasonably sure that he had now turned seven. At least, his mother, when she was alive, had told him that he had been born during Harvest Festival.

Onie smiled down at him. He was cheerful and eager and the teachers thought that he had a Mage Gift, though he was still too young to grow into it yet. His Choosing had rescued him from a life of living off the charity of his cruel uncle, Barro's father.. Both boys had only been back to their former home once, during Harvest festival, and they had asked her to go with them. Barro's parents were unpleasant, unhappy people. His father angry and sly, his mother defensive and critical. There was no love in that house that Onie could see and it was no wonder that Barro now stayed at the stable. Barro's father obviously did not care for losing his son's labor at the mill, but he could not object since he was working for the Crown.

"Aye, Saston. Did class go well fer ye, today?" His uncle had barely fulfilled the Queen's law that all children be schooled for both his nephew and his own son. Along with being the youngest Herald-Trainee, he hardly knew his letters and numbers, but he was quickly making up for lost time. Onie had found out about Barro's poor learning when she caught Saston taking his parchments to the stable to study with his cousin. After that, Barro was given leave from his work in the morning to attend class at the Temple of Kernos for his own classes.

"Yes! Herald Moonlide said that if I pick a second name, she'll show me how to spell it!" The idea of simply choosing a second name had thrilled the orphaned boy with an unknown father and he had been furiously going through possible candidates.

"Jus' don' pick nothin' too soon. Anythin' ye picks is gonna stick wi' ye fer the rest o' yer days. Ye wants ta make sure what ye picks feels right." Onie had repeated this advice a dozen times already. She hoped he wouldn't pick one of the heroic names from the ballads he liked. 'Stormblade' or 'Silverhoof' or 'Demonbane' might sound good in song, but they weren't the kind of names a person might want to walk around with all the time.

Saston gave her a cautions smile. "I don't have to choose until I'm ready." He laid a hand on his Companion's leg; he wasn't tall enough to reach much higher. "That's what Capar says."

"Capar's right. Take ye time." Saston nodded back with a serious expression. His cousin, Barro, gave Onie a big grin as he tightened the straps under Capar's girth. Onie and Lillis went to their own saddling.

Saston and Capar waited for them and they left Companion's Stable together, each with their own special saddle accommodation. Saston's saddle was specially shaped, like a smaller saddle on top of the adult sized one with stirrups for his short legs. No one would ever put such a small child on a huge stallion like Capar. But Capar was a Companion and Saston was an unusually young Mindspeaker and determined to do his best.

Onie used a regular Companion's work saddle that included extra straps to allow weary or wounded Heralds to strap themselves onto their Companion's back for emergencies. She just used them every day. There were straps across the lower and upper legs, and straps in the front that she could slide her arms through to keep from falling to either side, plus a wide one that went around her waist. Without them she was still in danger of falling when Lillis ran. But Lillis could run now, full speed. Onie was very proud of that.

She and Lillis had been practicing ever since her first day in Haven. Onie still felt vertigo whenever she was too far away from the ground, on a bridge or when Lillis galloped, all four legs in the air in mid-stride. But she had learned to 'stand away from it' as Healer Luba called it. If she kept her head up, eyes on her goal, mind only on where she was going, she could keep back the nausea, too. It was a lot of effort, but she was slowly getting used to the concentration. She could ride with Lillis galloping and jumping, but it would take awhile before she could fight or shoot arrows from the saddle, which she was determined to learn since, standing on the ground she had learned to be a very good archer, especially with the spectacles that the Crown provided. She could also now climb to the second floor of the Collegium and stay there for half a candlemark before needing to go downstairs. Climbing all the way up to the Library on the third floor was her next goal.

Equestration class was short that day, the lessons more about practicing the skills they had than doing anything new, there always seemed to be room for improvement from what their instructors said. Both Onie and Saston were limited for completely different reasons, but they and their Companions exchanged encouragements about what they could do. they were done soon enough, a small white herd of Companions and Chosen going back to the stables.

Onie would have preferred to rub down and groom Lillis after every ride instead of just on seventh day when she had no classes, but there was never enough time. Lillis went to the stables grooms and Onie hurried for a quick wash and complete change of clothes before heading up to her least favorite class; geography.

She did at least passably well at all her classes. She did best at Herald-Trainee Orientation. Being an adult, she had a fairly realistic idea about what Heralds did and her maturity gave her quite an edge over the young ones in the class. She had finished with that class and was now learning something called artificing; it seemed to be all about learning how things were built. She was uneven at mathematics; she already had experience at figures and accounting, sometimes doing the books at the Ox and Cart for Essie Axehead when she worked there. Angles and trigonometry for surveying made sense to her and it wasn't hard to pick up. But obscure things like calculating volumes with water and formulas for areas confounded her. It worked if she knew what she was working with, but the instructors seemed to expect her to figure things like how much grain was in a barrel without saying how big the barrel was. She never seemed to get the trick of it.

Valdemar history was like story telling and she enjoyed that. Valdemar law and Heralic Duties were some memorization and a bit of common sense, but Onie had a lot of trouble with the long passages in the Crown Code. But geography seemed to be all memorization; she could do it, but it was hard and she couldn't see that she was learning anything useful by forcing herself to recite the names of all the things in the maps only to forget them after barely passing a test. Even the places inside Valdemar, where she could likely be sent as a Herald, were hard to remember. The big bluish squiggles on the map did not look like rivers to her, nor did the dots look like towns. The names of things always seemed to leak out of her mind by the next class and she would have to memorize them all over again. She could always pick out Fair Fields, Kettleshmith and all the towns up the road to Haven on the map with nothing but dots and black lines on it, but that was because she had been to those places.

She took her usual seat in the lecture room while Herald Grader started going on about mountains in the north and in Iftel. Onie had never seen a mountain, other than in drawings and other art. Big pointy hills in the distance with snow on them year round and Heralds needed to know about them for sure. She just wished she had a better way of knowing their names.

Next to her at the front table, Roston Jestren slouched forward in his seat over his notes. He did not like geography any more than she did. On his first day Roston noticed her looking at him and shyly introduced himself. Having been caught staring. Onie could not avoid introducing herself to him and ask if he was new. He confessed that he was. He was a cousin to a Lord Drogon whose estate was nearest a town called Muntfort. Onie had never heard of it and from Roston's description it was as small as Fair Fields. There were very small dots for both of them on the maps.

Since that first meeting, Onie had struggled with the questions of how to ask him about his family. He had mentioned an older brother and his wife, an older sister and quite a lot of cousins who hunted and chopped wood and fished and picked on and played tricks on boys who spent more time doing chores at the Manor and scribing for the household accounts than going out into the forest. He was supposed to learn how to manage Lord Drogon's trade accounts from one of his cousins in Haven. But when Onie asked about them, he would start mumbling single word responses and find a way to change the subject. He did not like his family and Onie hoped, for her nephew's sake, that they were not bad people.

* * *

**- - - End Part 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

* * *

**- - - Part 3**

"There you are!" Sunwing spread his arms wide, his long orange and yellow patterned sleeves hanging down from his slender forearms. He stood in the hallway as the geography class emptied, people just going around him.

He was the Tayledras Mage who seemed to have been put in charge of figuring out what Onie's Ground-Gift was. Even though he was only ten years older than Onie, with an unlined face, his hair was pure white; people said it was from Magic-use since he was an Adept, the highest ranking kind of Mage. He was friendly enough, direct and honest. Onie had never seen him in a bad mood though she was a bit tired of his persistent complaints about how 'thin' Magic had become since the Mage-storms and how he couldn't do large Magics like he used to. He talked about it more than most people talked about the weather. It had been almost a week since he had Onie wear the last of a series of different Magic talismans to test their effects. Nothing had happened to Onie, though apparently all sorts of things had happened, good and bad, to the people who wore them after she did. Sunwing had neglected to inform any of his victims what the talismans were for before passing them out.

"We must have a meeting," he declared, "but not here."

Next to him, in long green working tunic and apron, was Luba, the Healer who had looked at Onie's Ground Gift when she first arrived. "And the Healers Collegium would like to try a few things with your Ground Gift. Now that the Mages have had their turn." Luba had made Onie's Ground Gift a Healers' project in a similar way as Sunwing.

She shrugged agreeably. "Aye, if ye wants. But I donna know wha' ye can do wit' it." She liked Luba, who had been helping with her trying to stretch the limits of her Ground problems, particularly with climbing stairs. She turned to Roston to introduce them.

He was staring open-mouthed at Sunwing who did not seem to mind being gawked at.

"Aye, ye wanted ta meets a Hawkbrother. This here is Sunwing, one 'o tha Mages workin' wit' me Ground Gift. An this is Healer Luba."

Roston gulped and nodded.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Sir." Sunwing graciously bowed his head to the young man.

Roston stared at Sunwing's clothes as much as at him with something like awe, admiration and perhaps a bit of envy. Onie could not see why any woman, let alone any man, would want to wear what the Taleydras Mages wore. She had never witnessed Sunwing having problems, but she could not imagine how he could get through a day without his long sleeves getting caught in a door or on a chair arm, or having the dragging hem of his outer robe getting stepped on. His robes often had pointed shoulders that were at just the right height to poke Onie in the eye. His waistline was slim and he always wore a beaded golden sash over his narrow hips; the beadwork would match whatever other colors were in the rest of his outfit for the day. He was the first man that Onie could say dressed 'pretty' and 'manly' at the same time. Onie had even seen him standing next to a woman Taleydras Mage wearing the same kind of flapping sleeves and bright colors, but the masculine and feminine of their outfits was always perfectly clear.

"Roston's from up north, an' he has na been in Haven long, so'ee don' na see many from other parts," Onie went on to help cover for his obvious speechlessness.

Sunwing preened. "I am always happy to further the education of the young. What would you like to know, young man? You are clearly full of questions."

Roston gulped. Onie remembered Druin Axehead, the tavern-owner who hired her on as a cook back in her home village, spending a whole season scheming and saving to buy some southern wine from a merchant who came through Fair Fields in the summer. He talked all the time about how it would bring in more custom. But when he finally got a barrel of it, he didn't know what to do with it. He had not given a single thought about what would happen beyond just obtaining the wine. The usual customers to the Ox and Cart would try it once and then ask for ale. Even Druin, who would drink just about anything, wasn't that fond of it. In the end, Onie found out that it added some decent (though pricey) flavoring to the dinner stew. Roston had the same look on his face that Druin had when he looked at that barrel in the kitchen.

"I - I - I was wondering if, well, if there are any lady Hawkbrothers here that I might talk to? Just to talk to?" He cringed, but Sunwing just laughed. Roston looked miserable.

"Oh, but if they were ladies would they be Hawk _Brothers_?" His smile was kind and he patted Roston on the arm. "You have superb taste young man, but I must warn you that you have set your goals high. Tayledras women are very discriminating. You are wise to start your campaign by consulting your elders before embarking." Sunwing brushed imaginary dust from the front of his flamboyant robe, smoothing it. "You may look me up later for some hard earned advice, if you wish."

Roston gulped again and managed a nod. Healer Luba pursed her lips and eyed Roston carefully as he thanked the Mage and hastily exited.

"We have a few more tests for you, Onie," Sunwing began, cheerful as always. He strolled toward the bridge to Companion's Field. Onie just shrugged.

"Ye've always gots tests. More'n me classes."

"True. But we might just be getting some results." Sunwing raised a triumphant finger. "Your Gift has attracted the highest attention. The Queen herself regularly receives reports on them."

Onie had been at the Collegium long enough to not be too impressed. The Queen received reports from all Heralds, about their education, reports from the field and all manner of special tasks for the Crown. And she had been introduced to the Queen after her second week with Saston and another newly Chosen. Seleny had insisted that she was just another Herald like them. This seemed ridiculously untrue. She lived in the Palace, she gave out decrees and she did not go from town to town passing out the laws she signed. But the Queen was not offended when Onie pointed that out and she silenced the irate objections of a couple of her councilors who were present. She admitted that all that was true, but she still had been Chosen by a Companion, like theirs, to serve Valdemar in the best way she knew how. The truth of her words had been strong enough to put a lump in Onie's throat.

"So, what's ye results then?" Onie asked Sunwing. "An' wha's tha bes' way fer me ta do tha most good with it? I's already knows its gots ta be why I's Chosen."

"Well, they don't have a specific use for it at the moment. At least not until you can ride better. - - "

Onie grimaced at the truth of that, but Sunwing did not seem to notice.

" - - You are definitely not a Magic channel or conduit, so you cannot be used to magnify anyone else's power. You are completely impervious to any mind Magic. You simply can't be touched by any mind power or spell. You can't even receive Mind Speech from our strongest Mind Speakers. Only Lillis, to whom you are bound, can get through to you. I wonder how it was even possible for a Companion to form such bond with you at all." Sunwing waved his hands outwards, casting out that speculation for later. "And yet you do have power, innately in your very nature, that can only possibly manifest as your Ground Gift that gives you intuition and strength that none of us have ever seen before."

"Hmm, don' seem like I does much more'n any wise woman."

"That is true. You are severely limited by your nature," Sunwing admitted, "But it is still unique."

They stopped near a stone bridge leading to Companion's Field. Onie clearly made out Lillis's graceful body trotting toward them over the lush green grass. Without the spectacles she had received soon after arriving at the palace as a newly Chosen, she would barely have made out a white shape from so far away.

She turned back to the Tayledras Mage resplendent in his yellow and orange robe and beaded belt. "So, what's me nature then?"

"You definitely have Magical potential. But unlike so many others with no Gifts who have blocked channels, you simply don't have any channels at all."

"I hears ye talk about these channels all tha times, but I don' knows wha' they is."

Sunwing put a finger to his chin and gazed upward as if the answer were somewhere up in the sky. "Think of channels as our magical eyes and arms and legs through which we 'see' with Magic and control and use it. But you, somehow, are blind, deaf, dumb with no arms or legs, magically speaking. So, all your potential is concentrated in the most elemental, basic form possible, Ground.

Onie felt a bit cheated. She had magical potential? But no particular Gift? "So, wha's me potential? If I had these channel eyes and arms?" Lillis trotted up to them and Onie patted her neck in greeting.

Sunwing flipped his hands up as if that was nothing important. "I have no idea. A Gift usually manifests as a person grows, usually when they're just beginning to develop. But you are well past that age. Whatever potential you have had has well and firmly set into the only way it can, as your Ground Gift."

"Hmmm, tha' don' sound so good."

"Well, you don't have any control over it and you certainly don't have my potential or flair. And your Gift does not seem to extend beyond you and your Companion." He frowned. He had tested Onie's Gift when she was hugging other people or sitting on other Companions, but no matter how close she was to another person her Gift did not extend to or protect others from coercive Mind Magic. Only Lillis benefitted from Onie's Gift through their bond.

"But," Sunwing went on, "you are magically impervious. Not the strongest Mind Speaker, no Bard, not even the _dyheli_ can't touch you. And that is saying quite a bit."

Onie shrugged. She still felt a bit disappointed, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. "So, wit' me bein' so impervious, wha's ye so excited abouts now?"

"Ah! I have an idea that at least will allow you to receive Mind Speech," He extended a slender hand to Lillis, "through your fine Companion here." Sunwing talked as he led them toward the edge of the Palace garden overlooking the banks of the Terilee River. "Now, both myself and Luba here are excellent Mind Speakers and we believe that if we send to Lillis, she should be able to pass it on to you."

Lillis winked at Onie and she shrugged. "Aye. I s'pose tha'd be useful."

"Excellent!" He strolled ahead of them with Luba toward a hedge of berry bushes. "We will go over here out of hearing distance!" The last bit was shouted back at Onie and Lillis, who turned her head, her sapphire eyes smiling.

_:And we will speak to you through your Companion:_

Onie gasped at hearing the voice that she had not heard since the day Lillis showed up at the Ox and Cart back in Fair Fields. It was wise but very young. And familiar. Lillis had reminded Onie of her niece, impatient, impetuous and outspoken, and her Mind Voice sounded just like Nan, too.

"Aye," she answered, "I heared that."

Lillis flicked her ears _:No, answer back with your mind, to Lillis."_

Onie frowned. She and Lillis understood each other without words and she had never tried anything different. 'What should I say?' the thought as 'loud' as she could.

_:No, that's not right Lillis, you're answering for her.:_ Lillis swung her head toward the Hawkbrother Mage.

_I am not._ Lillis's posture and annoyance were obvious enough to Onie. Again Lillis looked back toward Onie.

_:Onie, raise your hands above your head:_ the Nan-voice commanded.

Onie raised her hands up and looked toward Sunwing and Luba in the distance. Sunwing's bright colors and white hair stood out from the background of dark green hedges, but Luba's green clothes tended to bland in. Hands up. Onie waited for them to tell her to put them down.

And waited.

Finally, Sunwing started trotting toward them, waving his arms, sleeves flapping in the wind. Luba came right after him. Lillis neighed for her to put her arms down. The worry in her horsey voice got Onie's attention and she went to her.

"I'm right here."

Her Companion's blue eyes were wide and fearful.

Sunwing arrived. "Onie did you hear me at all, or are you more dense than I thought?" he demanded.

"I heared ye tellin' me ta put me arms up. I was jus' waitin' fer ye ta tell me ta put'em down."

Luba's eyes were wide with surprise. "You didn't hear Sunwing telling you to put them down through Lillis at all?"

Onie shook her head. This was like the other Mage tests, when all she saw was Mages waving their arms and muttering words and some big Magic awing everyone else except her. Her eyes flicked toward her Companion. This was the first time one of these tests had noticeably upset Lillis.

Sunwing circled around to Lillis. "She didn't hear you, because . . . ." He whirled, pointing at Onie. "Turn around!"

Onie drew back, but turned around, facing away from Lillis and Sunwing and crossing her arms over her chest. Through her spectacles, she could see the details of the trees, grass and shrubs of Companion's Field in the distance. Her uncorrected side vision could make out the general outline of Luba and though Onie could not make out her facial expressions, something was going on because Luba kept turning her head from Onie, back toward Sunwing and Lillis and then back again to Onie.

A loud, high pitched whinny. _:Yes, she can!:_

"Aye, I heared that."

"Turn back around!" Sunwing commanded.

Glowering, Onie turned around again. Lillis was upset, she could see it. She could hear it in the stamp of her hooves, their slightly musical chime strongly muffled on the grass.

"Face away from us again!"

She turned again.

Another whinny, more upset. :_No! You're wrong! She can hear me!_:

"I heared that, too!" This time Onie kept her back to them, but she could still glimpse Luba and she looked worried. Onie was just about to turn around and rescue her Companion from whatever the Mage was doing when new hoofbeats interrupted. Onie was quite pleased to see Capar roughly nosing Sunwing away from Lillis. Rolan, the Queen's Own Companion and presumptive head of the Companion herd, appeared on Lillis's other side.

Onie went to Lillis; the two stallions stepped aside, averting their eyes. Onie saw Lillis's sapphire eyes bright and brimming. She leaned close so their foreheads touched. "I hears ye wit' me heart. Ye gots na cause fer feelin' bad jus' 'cause I'm too hard headed ta hear real Mind Speakin'." The only voice Onie had ever heard in her head was Lillis's, the voice that sounded just like her niece and that she apparently could not hear unless she could see or hear Lillis. Onie was sure that was not how Mind Speaking was supposed to work.

She stroked Lillis's soft, white cheeks. A Companion's coat was so much finer than a horse, somehow, softer, thicker, along with being perfectly, mystically white, as different as a goose down pillow was from one stuffed with straw.

Onie sniffed. But still, a Companion smelled strongly of horse. Good, healthy horse, but still horse.

"The voice I's hears when ye speaks ta me isna really ye's, is it?"

_:No. The voice you hear . . . it's . . . . you. It's what you think I sound like. You can't hear me.:_

"I's can still feel ye."

Lillis sighed, a large warm exhale.

_:Even the Companions whose Chosen have no Mind Speech can still Speak to them if they need to. I've done something wrong.:_

"Ye think then," Onie's throat tightened on her next words, "that ye made a mistake wit' Choosin' me then?"

_:NO!:_ Lillis jerked her head up, her eyes almost panicked before pushing her nose into Onie's middle. _:Never, Chosen. But this should not be. You should be able to hear my real Mind Speech.:_

_:You seem to be more unique that we imagined:_ This voice sounded the same, but was still different enough for Onie to know it's source. Rolan winked at them. _:Both of you.:_

Onie stroked Lillis' perfectly white forelock and her long nose.

"Aye. Unique we are. That'll do fer me."

Capar touched Lillis's shoulder with his nose. _:We brought our Chosen home the same day. Onie is no less yours that Saston is mine.:_

Lillis flicked her ears. _:That's easy for you to say. You Speak to Saston all the time. And he's so young!:_

_:We are all unique.:_ Capar's meager attempt at humility seemed to help a little.

The conversation played out in Onie's head with the same voice, like a single Bard performing all the characters in a fable. She pulled Lillis's head back to look at her.

"We speaks all tha times, too."

Lillis's eyes were still sad, but she nodded and nuzzled Onie's cheek. _:You should go speak to Sunwing now. Capar, Rolan and I have been threatening to trample him if he interrupts us.:_

_:And Luba.:_ There was a bit of a chuckle from Rolan in that.

Onie smiled and rested her forehead on Lillis again. Then she gave her a hug before letting the three Companions go, walking together on the wide garden path toward the green grass of Companion's Field. Sunwing impatiently walked up to her.

"You _are_ unique," he agreed.

Onie folded her arms over her chest. "Lillis donna see tha' as bein' such a good thing."

"Of course not. I don't know if anyone has ever heard of a Companion who can't Mind Speak their Chosen if they need to. No wonder she feels deficient."

Onie grit her teeth at the slight toward Lillis, but let it pass. "I still hears a voice."

"Yes, but that's _your_ voice. Or at least what you imagine Lillis to sound like. It's not true Mind Speech at all. Only slightly better than talking to yourself." Sunwing wrinkled his nose as if he'd just found mold on his cheese. "But Lillis is the only person who can even get that far, probably due to your bond."

"It could change," Luba added. "A Companion and Chosens' bond deepens and grows closer with time and patience."

Onie nodded. "Well, then, is tha' all ye wants wi' me, then?"

"Oh, that is quite enough for me today. I will definitely have something to report to Darkwing and the others on this." He headed off toward the Collegium without a backward glance.

Luba lingered. "I do have a request." She walked with Onie at a slower pace than Sunwing's energetic pace and pulled out a parchment with writing on it. Onie took it and immediately saw that it was a very long list of foods of all kinds. "I want you to mark on each one how much you like or dislike it. And I would like you to write down everything you eat or drink for the next two weeks."

"Everything?"

"Everything that passes your lips down to your stomach." Luba pointed at Onie's belly for emphasis. "I have an idea that your Ground Gift leads you to like all the foods that would be best for your health without you even thinking about it."

Onie took the list and tucked it away into an inner pocket. "Aye. I'll do tha' fer ye, but I don' know how I'll not be thinkin' bout it when I pick what I eats now."

Luba chuckled. "Well, don't do anything that you don't already do. Just follow your usual habits. And I'm curious about that young man you were with when we met, Roston?"

"Oh, aye, Roston Jestren. He's in some o' me classes. He tol' me tha' he wants ta meet some Hawkbrothers."

"Really?" Luba looked very interested. "Is he new to Haven?"

"Aye. Come from some land in tha' north. Only been 'ere since after Harvest fest'val."

"Really." Luba digested those words slowly.

"Is there something 'bout tha', that means somethin'?"

"Oh, sometimes new arrivals from the countryside express an interest in exotic foreigners for reasons other than what they say . . . "

Her voice trailed off. Up ahead, sunwing had stopped and was staring toward the Palace gate in the distance. They caught up with him.

A man dressed in black sat on a Companion in formal tack, bridle bells jingling with every plodding step. Behind him, in Whites, their Companions arrayed in formal blue and silver tack were the Prince-Consort and the Queen's Own. Onie glanced toward Luba and Sunwing; both true Mind-Speakers were probably getting the whole story from someone else, but she did not need a Gift to guess who the man in black was. It had to be Bronner Childorn, the merchant whose wife had just died and was now Chosen of Companion Hyer.

He appeared to be a thin man with long arms and legs. He was clean-shaven with thin lips, a long hook nose and a high forehead and full head of long, straggly gray hair. He looked very old, but that could have been from grief as much as from age. Onie remembered hearing that he had adult children. Hyer was big, but not draft-horse broad like Capar; he had long legs like a race horse though his head was down with the same weary look as his Chosen. The three slowly crossed the gardens on their way toward Companion's Field. Other people, Heralds, Bards, Healers, guards, servants, other students from the Collegium stopped to watch the sad procession of three. No one spoke or moved as they crossed over into the Field. Even the bell-like steps of the Companions sounded like a funeral dirge.

* * *

**- - - End Part 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

* * *

**- - - Part 4**

Everyone was talking about Bronner Childorn and Hyer at dinner. Even Tamira, who disliked gossip and snapped at anyone she thought was spreading rumors, had her own speculation about them. People seemed to agree on a few things that Onie though sensible. Childorn would likely be a Councilor to the Queen. With peace now between Valdemar and her old enemies Hardorn and Karse, and Iftel's borders open, trade was be incredibly important. Childorn was reputed to have traveled all over Velgarth, though Onie found some accounts of where he had been and what he brought back to sell a bit fanciful.

After dinner and washing up, Onie went to her room to study. In the message box attached to the wall by her door were letters from home. Letters were often passed out at meals when everyone was gathered up in the Common Room, but the kitchen was not the best place for receiving letters, so the pages left them at her room. Sitting down at the desk, she opened them. There was one from Brother Callus at the Lady Trine's Shrine; who reported some of the usual activities in her one-street home town. There was one from Mec, her sister, who had taken her old job as cook at the Ox and Cart. Mec had been using Onie's cooking tips and now people were saying that Mec was a much better cook though her sister insisted that she told them that she was just using the recipes that Onie sent her. But the third letter was a surprise; it was from her nephew, Sami. She opened and read it.

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Onie,

Ma is tired of me asking about yur writing and says that I need to get better at me letters so I shud write me own. She and grandma says that anything I put here is private and anything you write back is private to me. So, if yu have anything to say about what we talked about before yu left, yu can send it to me and I don't have to say anything about it to Ma. Have yu found anything out about who my real Pa is?

I gues I need to say more. Ma says that I cannot just ask yu for things. I am supposed to give yu my say back. Everyone was really quiet after yu left and it went on for days and days. The house just seemed more empty with yu not on the hearth and all. Ma and Grandma had some fights and I went up in my loft to hide when Grandma and Grandpa argued about the wages the Crown has sent for us. Grandma wanted to give some to the Temple and Grandpa was not liking that. They gave some to the Temple.

The food is better at the Ox and Cart now than at the Wolf's Head and Ma says that is because of what yu been sending her and Mec, but Druin Axehead has been drinking more and Essie is very angry about it. Mec says they been fighting. And the town council wants to build a new road since they'll have half taxes because of yu being Chosen and people are fighting about that. And the harvest is going to be good and I've been getting a few coins for working neighbors farms, but I'm too short for picking any of the fruit trees. Ma says that I need to save what I get for when I get older, but I really need new boots for winter.

I think I am done now. Write back soon.

Sami

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Onie looked down at her nephew's letter in the lamp light. It was a bit more honest than the others she had gotten. No one had said anything about Druin drinking again or people fighting about things. Fair Fields was its usual placid sameness from what she read in her mother or sisters' letters. Brother Callus had said that she had left a 'hole' in the community that no one realized that she had been filling until she was gone, but he did not go into any specifics. Callus wrote his own poetry, so Onie just thought he was using some of that in his letter.

Her nephew's letter also asked for word of his father. She had a good notion of who his family was and now she could not put off finding a way to ask Roston Jestren where he came from, or at least asking about his family. Onie thought about that. Asking about his family was a harmless enough question, something that people talked about all the time. Especially if she talked about her family first, minus anything about how much Roston looked like her nephew. She thought about waiting a week to write back until after she got more information, but she had something to tell him now, especially since she could send him a private letter to him without anyone thinking it odd.

She took out a fresh parchment and dipped her quill in the ink.

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Sami,

I am glad you wrote to me separately. People won't ask if you get a letter from me now.

I do not know who your father is. But there is a new student, not much older than you, in some of my classes at the Collegium here who looks so much like you that he must be from the same family as your real Pa. But I have not found a polite way to ask about it yet.

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Onie paused about how much more she should say. Should she tell him that his father was from the north? But she did not really know if that was true. Perhaps Sami's father's part of the family was living in Haven now. Roston had to be living somewhere.

Onie gulped. Perhaps Sami's father was in Haven. She did not know where Roston lived in Haven and if Sami's father was Roston's uncle or an older cousin, he could be living with him and his family now. She decided to only say what she knew for sure.

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

I have to be careful about asking. Some people really don't like others knowing about their family relations.

When you were little, a young guard came to town and he looked just like Druin Axehead and he said that he was his son and that was a tough time to be working at the Ox and Cart because Essie was so mad at Druin he had to sleep in the tavern instead of their room and he drank too much and that made it worse. And Ber and Noss weren't full grown then like now, and still living with Druin and Essie. And they did not get along at all with that young guard fellow even if they were half-brothers. The Sisters of the Shrine in Kettlesmith had to come and talk to them all since one of them is Essie's real sister. Things got better, but they have never been quite right since.

So, I need to be real careful I know a lot more before I ask about your father.

Love, your sister,

Onie

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

She folded and sealed it with wax from the candle and put it aside. The boxes for correspondence was upstairs in the Herald-Trainee dormitories and her letters back home gave her motivation to practice going up the stairs. She hoped the story about Druin would make Sami understand why she was cautious and it was not anything that the whole town of Fair Fields did not already know. And Sami had been too young to remember the first few years after Mec came home with him. It was all anyone talked about in town all season, along with the gossip, insults and shunning from some people who had once been friends. Their mother pestered Mec about Sami's real father for years; she only stopped when Sami was old enough to start talking. It was the one time that their father declared their oldest daughter more stubborn than their younger. Onie could imagine the same thing happening all over again, except in Roston's family. Was Sami's father married? With other children and a wife who might not know about his son in Fair Fields? Sami had a right to know who his father was, but just one wrongly placed question could start something that she could not stop.

Putting her letters and worries aside, she dug out Healer Luba's long list of foods. It could have filled a small pamphlet. Sighing, she got a blank piece of parchment from the shelf to write what she ate on it. But when she finished, she wondered if Luba meant for her to write down how much or how many of each thing she ate, too. It did not seem complete without that. Otherwise, if she wrote 'pie' down, how was Luba to know if it had been just one piece, or a whole pie? She scratched that out with the quill in the margin. It was messy, but legible. She put the parchment aside to dry and reached for a book of Valdemar history.

Onie paused, frozen in mid-reach. The tiniest creak, the softest touch of small boot on stone interrupted the silence in her room. She could almost feel the vibration of the familiar footsteps through her feet on the stone floor. She pushed the chair back, got up and went to the door. She unlocked and opened it.

Saston stood open-mouthed, his hand up, small fist ready to knock. He always tried to be quiet, to not disturb her, but she always heard him coming. It had been the same way when she slept on the hearth in her father's house. No one could approach the door, even enter the yard without her knowing, even if she was sound asleep. Luba and Sunwing said it was because of her Ground Gift, but Onie did not think that being a light sleeper was anything extraordinary.

Saston came in, clutching a book. He always came with the pretense of studying and sometimes came with one or two other younger Trainees (the nearest to him in age was a girl of ten years), but he really just wanted to hear stories. He was alone this time and he waited until she invited him in.

They sat together on her little-used bed with the book open. It was a leather-bound volume of short fables, a prize he had won in class for learning his alphabet quickly. She would read it for him and every so often stop, point at a short word and see if he could sound it out. He always managed it, but Onie had not pointed to any words with more than five letters in them. It was too advanced for such a young reader and Onie assumed that Saston's teachers meant for others to read it to him, and to motivate him to work hard at his lessons so he could read it himself someday.

One picked a story in the middle and recognized the title. "This is tha tale 'o Lord Rumpige. Ye e'er hear this one afore?"

Saston shook his head.

"Oh, well, ye will soon enough if ye ever talks ta any Healers. They always tells this story, like a warning ta na eat too much." Onie self-consciously thought about the list foods she had filled out for Luba. As soon as she turned twenty she filled out in her thighs, hips and bust, proper womanly proportions, but the change had marked her 'old-maidenhood' and boys conspicuously stopped looking her way after her body so suddenly started looking so much like her mother's.

"Lord Rumpige lived in a big estate wit' good farms 'n' land, 'n' lakes full 'o fish, 'n' forests full 'o game." There was a hand painted picture of green hills with a little castle among them at the beginning with fancy lettering. "And 'ee was a good Lord, fought bandits 'n' ruffians and kep'm away from tha folks 'oo worked 'is lands and 'ee'ad a good wife 'n good children. But 'e had one terrible vice.

"What's a vice?" Saston's brown eyes were nearly black and wide with interest in the candle light.

It was someone drinking more than ever makes sense and leaves it for others to clean up their sick. It was men grabbing onto things that they have no business getting their hands on and then getting high and mighty mad about being told not to. It was people wanting something too much even when they knew it hurt them, or worse, their families. Onie pressed her lips together.

"It's somethin' that someone likes more'n they should, cause it makes'em sick." She pointed at the page to distract Saston's attention back to the story.

"Lord Rumpige's vice was tha' e' loved," she pointed at a word at the end of the end the sentence. Saston followed her cue and leaned over to sound it out. He had a hard time with the combinations of letters and made a one syllable word into four. Onie encouraged him to say it faster.

"Ssssss-weeets? Sweets?" He looked wonderstruck, the simple word made into a great discovery. He looked back at the page as if there might be cake. "Sweets? Sweets is a vice?"

"Only if ye's eats too many of 'em, too often, like Lord Rumpige did." She went on with the story. The Healers from Kettlesmith all told it to anyone coming to them who had a wide waistline.

"Lord Rumpige loved anything sweet and had them with ev'ry meal an' ev'ry drink, an' na just at festivals an' feasts. He made sure that 'is gamekeepers had lots 'o beehives 'n' planted many sweet-sap trees on 'is land. An' ee paid traders fer fancy sweet-spices from tha south." She turned the page.

"Ee 'ad honey in 'is porridge an' sweet sap glaze on 'is meats, an' poured on 'is greens an' he always had cake instead'o bread. An' sweet wine 'an brandy 'an honey tea. An'ee had a hearty appetite wit' big meals, an' feasts and snacks late at night.

"All tha food went ta fat on poor Lord Rumpige an' year after year he gets fatter and fatter. His stomach getting' bigger an' bigger. His arms're bigger'n mos' people's legs, 'is legs as big as mos' people's waists. An' his - - "

Onie pointed and Saston carefully sounded out 'teeth'.

"Tha's right. His teeth gets weak an' brown an' rotten from too much sweets even though'ee cleans'em ev'ry day.

"An' ev'ry time tha Healers would come ta look after tha people on 'is estate, they would tell 'im sternly that'ee can na eat so much, tha'is heart an' bones can na take so much weight. He hangs his head an'ee says he'll stop eating so much an' eat what they tell him to.

"The Healers leave an' Lord Rumpige is good fer a few days. But then, he misses tha cakes an' tha sweet drinks so much; he thinks he will jus' have one. But it turns inta' two. And then five. And soon, he is back to'is ol' ways. An'is wife an' family an' servants love him so much, they can na bear ta see him unhappy, so they lets'im - - - "

"Eat!" Saston finished even before Onie could point at the word.

"Oh, ye knows that one?"

Saston nodded solemnly and pointed at the word.

"Good. 'Cause tha more ye knows, tha easier it is ta get tha others.

"An ev'ryone in tha household lets'im have their sweets, too, 'cause bees and trees can only make so much an' tha foreign sweet spices is expensive. An' it makes 'im happy when'ee eats'em, an' tha family is happy.

"So, after a time, when the Healers come, they just shake their heads when they see Lord Rumpige getting' bigger'n'bigger an' 'is teeth fall out and 'ee can only eat sweet mashes an' porridge an' puddings. An afters a time his knees and joints start hurtin' from tha extra weight an'ee uses a cane ta get around, an'ee feels tired an' sickly from bein' so big, but'ee ne'er loses'is love fer sweets. An' tha chairs creaks so loud when'ee sits down tha' ev'ry one is afraid'e they will break, so'ee only sits on sturdy, wide benches. An'ee does na go out to tha farms anymore 'cause'is horse shies and trembles when'ee sees Lord Rumpige waddlin' down ta tha stables ta be lifted up on'is back. An' tha tailors have ta use as much material as they needs fer a tent when they makes'im a new cloak and suit'o clothes.

"An' it goes on year after year, with Lord Rumpige feeling more'n'more sickly from eatin' sweets an'is children are mindin' tha estate more'n'ee is. Until one night after ev'ry one has gone ta bed, when it's dark an' creaky quiet, ev'ryone is woken up by a huge CRASH! From Lord Rumpige's room."

Saston jumped and gasped.

"An' ev'ry one comes running. An' they burst in and they find a - - - "

"H - hu - hu - ho - hole?"

"Aye. That's what they finds. There is a big hole in the floor of Lord Rumpige's room, right where tha bed was supposed ta be. But there's no bed. An' no Lord Rumpige.

"So, they all runs downstairs, tha whole family and all their servants, an' they finds in a workroom, right under Lord Rumpige's another - - -"

"Hole?" Saston answered.

"Aye. Rights under tha bedroom. So they all run downstairs again, the family and servants an' the servants families, an' tha cooks and tha' groundsman and guards who've come to see what all the noise is about.

"An' there in the cellar, where they stores tha winter food, they find poor Lord Rumpige. An'is bed. He finally got too heavy fer it an' tha floor and he fell clean through an' broke'is neck on the barrels an' bags an' brok'n timbers. An' a jug'o honey in the store room broke an' spilled out under him like golden blood.

"They were all very sad, for they still loved their Lord Rumpige, because 'ee ne'er was a bad man fer all'is weakness fer eaten sweets until'ee was bigger'n a bear. They had ta call fer artificers ta build a frame an' winch ta get tha body out'o tha cellar. An' they carried Lord Rumpige's remains in tha biggest wagon they had to tha grove o' tha family shrine. An 'is pyre burned fer two days, there was so much'o'im. They spread 'is ashes among tha groves'o tha sweet sap trees that'ee loved so much. But tha family had lost a lot'o its taste fer sweets. Even Lady Rumpige, who was a bit plump'erself, could na bear ta touch any fer tha rest'o her days, because she could na share'em wit' her Lord.

"When the Healers came back in tha spring they were na surprised ta hear wha' happen'd ta poor ol' Lord Rumpige. An' tha Healers tell this story ta this day."

"Only have ye sweets,

wit' ye festival feasts.

More'n that,  
makes ye fat."

Onie tilted her head. "Have ye na had the Healers tell ye this?"

Saston shrugged and shook his head. "My uncle wouldn't ever give me any sweets. Said he wouldn't waste them on me. And I never saw a Healer before I come here."

"Did ye ne'er get sick?"

Saston nodded. "I'd get fevers in the winter, but my Uncle Sev never said it was bad enough to go calling Healers for." Saston lowered his eyes. "My mother died from a fever. But when the Healers come, they said she was too sick. And she died. My uncle said they were all useless after that."

He looked very small, sitting on the bedcovers next to her. After his mother died, Saston's uncle had not bothered to declare guardianship for his nephew to any court or temple or the Crown census takers. So, no one in authority could demand that he take proper care of and educate one orphaned young boy working in his mill for no wages. But Uncle Sev paid a sort of price for it. Normally the Crown paid a stipend to the family of the children Chosen to be Heralds, to compensate for the work lost to the household. But since Saston was undeclared, his uncle got nothing.

Onie hugged him and he put his arms around her waist and buried his face in her side.

* * *

**- - End Part 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**GROUNDLING 3: GEOGRAPHY**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 5**

* * *

Dean Teren showed up at breakfast requesting a food basket.

Tamira scowled. She did not care for any requests for her to change her routine and she usually complained about people thinking they were too 'special' to eat upstairs. But she was smart enough not to talk back to the Dean when she asked if it was for morning or midday, for one person or a group.

"Just one. For breakfast. It's for Bron Childorn. Not that we think he'll eat much, but he'll need to keep up his strength. He's camped out in Companion's Field with Hyer. We'll need a basket for him for every meal."

The two young Trainees loading the trays with food kept busy, their heads down, but Onie could practically see their ears perking up.

Tamira puckered her lips. "How long will we be providing this service?"

Teren sighed. "As long as Childorn needs to be there. Queen's orders," he added.

Tamira accepted that with a 'Hmmph'. "Onie fix up a basket." She went back to the ovens.

Onie got a basket and cloth from the storage room. Meal baskets were a fairly common request and Tamira usually handed off that duty to her if she was helping out with that meal. She loaded it with ham and eggs wrapped in flat bread, cheese and berries, and added a flask of cold water. Teren took it with him.

The Trainees did not say anything until the food trays were all winched up to the Common Room above and Tamira had gone to her small office to eat.

"What do you think he's like?" Swan Morenthallen asked in a hushed voice. "Has anybody seen him, yet?"

"Aye," Onie admitted. "Healer Luba and I saw'im comin' in wit' tha Prince and Queen's Own." She described the thin man with the hook nose, and long scraggly hair, and the Companion, hanging his head down. "He an' Hyer looked . . . . mighty tired." She did not know how else to describe him to her fellow kitchen helpers. She had seen how families looked after their loved ones died, and Childorn looked like that. But no more than what she had seen in any other bereaved person.

"What do you think he'll do?" Clem speculated. "I mean, for the Queen." The two younger Herald-Trainees speculated about what use an old merchant could possibly be for the Crown. Trade was handled by the Guilds and they already had a representative on the Queen's Council. Diplomacy was another possibility, but seemed unlikely since so many people mis-trusted merchants on instinct. They were always assumed to be loyal only to their own profits and treasure first, not Queen and Country. But they agreed that if the Companions could Choose a reformed thief and a Karse soldier, then there had to be a place for Childorn. There was always some foresight in the Companions' Choices.

"A thief?" Onie pressed her lips together at the very idea. She had heard the name Skif. He was a senior Herald and friend of the Queens Own, but was often away on Crown business. She had heard nothing about this part of his background "Don' know why any thief would be of use ta Valdemar. They should'all be stripped and sent out o'town. In'a middle o'winter." Onie despised thieves of any sort. They were the lowest, most selfish people possible. She prided herself on being fair-minded, but thieving would always get her temper hot right away.

"Well, there's spying," Clem shot back. Swan chimed in with a list of other things that a thief could do, especially to Valdemar's enemies in the middle of any of the wars going on when Onie was growing up. Quite a lot of blood had been spilled with Hardorn and Karse before their new alliances during the Mage-storms. Onie had to concede that the Kingdom could not be too prissy over standards about thieving during any war when all laws were sundered. But Onie could still not imagine a Companion Choosing a real thief and wondered if Skif had really been the common street criminal that Clem and Swan insisted he was.

Their conversation was ended soon enough with the bell announcing the return of the dumb waiter with loads of dirty dishes. Tamira emerged from her office and they all went back to their kitchen chores.

After breakfast, cleaning up and a quick stop at her room to write down what she ate, Onie went to her only Collegium class of the day, Courtly Graces. It was all the things that a Herald needed to know how to do not only in the Court of Valdemar but in any Court in the neighboring kingdoms. Heralds were expected to be diplomats as well as law givers. It was a good class because it was intuitive, just manners and things to do and not do. All kinds of people had their particular ways, not just royalty and Onie had no trouble remembering them. But it was also hard because the next oldest Herald-Trainee in the class was fourteen. Onie felt conspicuously out-of-place and backward to be having to catch-up on things that Heralds more than ten years younger than she had already mastered. Back in Fair Fields, she had always felt herself reasonably well learned. But there were people much younger than she at the Collegium who had already read hundreds of books about things she had never heard of. Her instructors all said she was doing well in her studies, and they meant it, but there was always an unspoken 'for your age' or 'for your background' in their praise.

After that came weapons training. Even on a light class day there was weapons training. Even on the rest day after that, there was weapons training though it was often more exercise than fighting. Onie had time to wash up before going to noon meal. Even for meals when she did not have any kitchen chores, she still ate with the helpers. While she could climb the stairs up to the second floor, she knew that it would be a long time (maybe never) before she could eat in the Common Room and keep a meal down.

She had her choice of what she wanted to do for the rest of the day. Some of the older Trainees would go into Haven for an afternoon off, but many studied for their classes, in their rooms or in the third-floor Collegium Library that Onie hoped to be able to climb up to soon. Onie studied as well, but first she went out to Companion's Stable.

She found it strange that some Heralds were hardly even seen with their Companions unless they were riding, but those were often the Mind-Speakers, so they were still together in a way. But Onie preferred physically being with Lillis. Even if she had Mind-Speech, she was sure she would feel the same way.

Lillis showed up and Onie laid out the combs and brushes with a grin. Lillis was a pretty young thing and Onie enjoyed making her already perfectly white Companion sparkle just a little bit more. Onie no longer felt herself to be 'young' and while she was not ugly she had never been 'pretty' with the extra attention that came with it, good and bad, even when she was a slender teenager. Certainly not like her friends back in Fairfields, Timette and Bren, or some of the other girls. They were all married to farmers or tradesmen now, gone and left Onie behind.

She smiled as she brushed out Lillis's long white tail. Her Companion enjoyed the attention and Onie had seen her with the rest of the herd. Lillis was definitely 'pretty', but as far as Onie could tell, there seemed to be only a good side to it in Companion society.

When Lillis was rubbed down and groomed to bright white perfection, her hooves shining, they walked out toward Companion's Field together. It was a fine fall day, the sun partially overcast, the breeze a little brisk, but not cold yet. Onie kept her hand on Lillis's shoulder as they walked across the bridge. Feeling the distance of the water below, she took deep breaths. But she could also feel the shore on either side of the bridge, especially with Lillis next to her. The solid weight and sure footing of her Companion was something like a solid stone floor under her feet, at least when they walked side-by-side together.

They did not go far. They ended up at their usual spot at a fence facing back toward the Palace and Collegium. Onie would climb up on it with Lillis nearby, sometimes nibbling the grass. It was one of her exercises, along with her fast-walking and stair-climbing, to get her used to having her feet off the ground. This part of the fence was stone, so sitting on it was nearly the same to her as standing on the ground, but Onie did not mind taking on an easy challenge every now and then.

They only briefly spoke of Onie's inability to receive any Mind-Speech. Lillis accept that it was Onie's, but she still felt ashamed that she had not even realized it until Sunwing's test. But the shock of it had worn off with a little time and Onie moved on to talk about her classes and letters from home and her last encounter with Roston.

"Sumwing was a bit'o'a shock to'im."

Lillis whuffed.

"Aye'ee wan'ed ta meet a Hawkbrother an' it seemed likes a good way ta get on'is good side ta introduce'im, 'specially since Sunwing was right there in front'o'us an' all. But it was more like it scared'im off. Sunwing was not what'ee wanted. Said'ee wanted ta meet a lady Hawkbrother."

Lillis's ears perked up.

"That's what Sunwing thought, but I donna think 'ee wants a lady. He's a bit young an' it just dinna look like'ee wanted that. Said'ee wanted ta jus' talk ta a lady Hawkbrother, but dinna say about what." She sighed. "I wish I knew what'ee did want. If I helps'im get it, I could ask'im about Sami."

Lillis scoffed. She was in favor of just outright asking Roston about his family and Onie supposed if she was younger (like Lillis) she might have done just that. But Onie remembered the years of derision from their neighbors when Mec first came home with Sami. She wouldn't tell people that Sami's father had died, like their mother wanted and she and the whole family paid for that honesty. No one would give Mec work for years and those were lean times for the family, not long after all the chaos from the Mage-storms with two extra mouths to feed. Most people would only be civil to her at the Temple or Shrine because they had to. Some former friends stopped talking to their mother and their father was silently angry over whatever insults to Mec that came his way; he would never discuss them, not even with his wife, and the tension from that infected the whole household sometimes. Onie endured many very crude proposals from the boys around town. 'Don' know what ye problem is, girl. Or is ye too good fer us like ye sister who only spreads'er legs fer them fancy boys up in Haven?'

And to her shame, Onie remembered when she was a little, participating in the same kind of cruel taunting with her friends of a young girl in town that everyone knew had a baby. Onie had not even known where babies came from then, she just knew she wasn't supposed to have one without being wedded, a concept that her young mind did not really understand, either. The girl left town with her baby and Onie never even thought about wondering what happened to them until Mec became a target of the same punishment.

"I needs ta know more 'bouts how'ee's gonna react afore I goes an' asks."

Stamping a foot, Lillis waved her head toward the Palace.

"What? Go into Haven and spy on'im? I don' know even where'ee lives." But Onie knew that wasn't a problem. Lillis already knew all the streets in Haven (Onie supposed that the other Companions told her where things were) and at Harvest festival she found that any City Guard would give her directions to any places she wanted to go.

"Well, I s'pose I kin go look'an see where'ee lives. Don' have to knock on tha door. Jus' lookin' might give me some ideas."

Lillis scoffed again, but she eagerly carried Onie back to the stables where she put a plain work saddle on her back. The guard at the gate scratched his head when she asked about the house of Lord Drogon of Munthunt Hill up north. Another guard consulted a map which Onie found just as confusing as her Geography classes, but he could tell her which streets and lanes to go on and which places to turn which was all the direction she needed. They were out the gate, going past the houses of the highborns soon enough. Lord Drogon's house was not among them. Onie had already looked up Lord Drogon in one of the volumes about the highborn in Valdemar in the Palace library. It was a minor estate and Lord Drogon's noble lineage was very short. His great-great grandfather had led a revolt against the previous Lord of the estate after the lands were so badly abused, over-hunted, over fished and stripped of forests and despoiled with mine diggings clogging the rivers that an enormous landslide killed hundreds of people when a flood washed down the bare hillsides onto the local town, Muntfort. Drogon vowed to restore the land and protect it and the Crown made him the new lord of Munthunt Hill. He and his descendants had kept their word and the land recovered.

Leaving the lanes and parks of the large houses of the most important highborn, Onie turned into the streets of the lesser highborn and well-off tradesmen along with the establishments that supported them, food sellers, silver and goldsmith shops, glassmakers, potters along with shady parks, public foutains, temples and shrines. Reaching one end of Swoggot Lane Onie looked to the other end where it met Redleaf Street and what had to be Munthunt House. It was not any bigger than any of the tradesmen's homes with only two stories and an attic visible. There was a closed gate that could let hoses and carriages in and out and a low stone wall topped with a tall iron rail fence that she could see through into the leafy and well-tended garden. And there were trees, front and back. Lillis trotted toward it, keeping a leisurely pace with the other horse and wagon traffic in the street. Onie did not see a single person there either in the garden or in any of the windows of the house as they rounded the corner. Lillis wanted to go down the back lane, but Onie talked her out of it. A white Companion would be noticed down a lane that was only used by servants and tradesmen making deliveries to kitchen back doors. Then she really would be spying and what would she say to Roston if he saw her?

They came around the other side and went back up Swoggot Lane. It did not look like anyone was home. Roston had said that just he and his cousin lived there with a Cook and one servant girl. Though modest by highborn standards, it was suitable for Lord Drogon to maintain for business and have available for him and his family to stay in when they visited Haven.

"Well, I s'pose now I knows where'ee lives. I wonder if Mec stayed there when she was in Haven? She said she worked as a servant to a lord, but never said tha name. Wish I coulda seen what'is cousin looked like."

Lillis flicked her ears that she could have knocked on the gate for a 'visit' with Roston.

"Maybe next time."

One sapphire eye glanced back at her before Lillis looked forward again as she trotted them back to the Palace.

"All right, I'll either ask'im directly after our next class together, or ask one o' tha teachers bouts'im." There were no classes the next day (except for the inevitable weapons training), so Onie would have a day and a half to work out what she would say for either possibility.

Lillis approved.

Onie still pondered her strategies that evening at dinner as she packed up Bronner Childorn's food basket. For a distraction from the problem, she listened as the other Trainees talking about the newest Chosen even though she was already bored by the speculation. Nothing had changed since the morning. People seemed to just want to keep talking and spinning tales about it like telling ghost stories about the scary tragedy of Companion and Chosen being separated by death. She wondered if the idle talk would die down as people thought to ask their Companions about it. There was no idle chatter about the two among the herd. Lillis hardly knew Hyer any better than Onie did. He had always been an isolated member of the herd in his own part of Companion's Field during her short life. But Onie saw an echo of Hyer's pain and long lost Chosen in her sapphire eyes when she mentioned the two.

The next morning, Herald Ezor showed up to take Bronner Childorn's food basket to Companion's Field.

"Well, where're the baskets we already sent yesterday?" Cook Tamira demanded. "We won't have any left if we keep sending them." Her sympathy from the day before seemed to have evaporated. Onie knew that there were enough baskets in the store room for everyone in the Collegium to have a picnic lunch, but Tamira did have a point, especially since no one knew how long Childorn would be staying in Companion's Field.

Ezor had no idea. He and some of the other Collegium Herald instructors had been appointed to deliver the baskets to a specific plinth by the ancient chapel ruins in Companion's Field. No one had said anything about picking them up.

"It'll probably rain today. I don't want my baskets coming back all soggy with mildew. And why's he staying out there anyway in such weather?"

A tent had been erected for Childorn to stay in, on the Queen's orders, Ezor stated in a tone that did not allow criticism from Cook. But he promised to look into getting the baskets returned on his way out.

At midday meal, Ezor showed up again, with four empty baskets and picked up the new one. That afternoon, Onie went back out into Haven with Lillis to 'casually' trot past Munthunt House. Again, she did not see any sign of Roston, but there were three people out in the garden, two men who looked like they could have been old enough to have fathered Sami and a woman. One man had reddish-brown hair and a lot of freckles, the other man and woman were broad-shouldered and had muddy-blond hair and looked like they could have been related. None of them looked anything like Roston. Thankfully, none of them took any notice of Onie's passing. Were any of them Roston's cousin? She did not know why a Lord's cousin would be working in a garden, but it was not a very grand highborn house, either.

At dinner the other Trainees came up with new speculations about what Bronner Childorn would do for the Crown as a Herald. Onie was a tired of it and she objected when they started making things up like Childorn already being a Crown spy or being a secret Mage. She left the kitchen as soon as she was able. She tried studying, but that did not last long. Tomorrow her first class was one that she shared with Roston Jestren and she paced late that night in her room going over as many ways as she could think of to ask him about his family.

* * *

**- - - End Part 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 6**

* * *

"Gone?" Onie gasped, her pitch going high.

"Yes, he's gone." Unconcerned, Herald Grader did not look up to see the shock on her face as he put one of the scrolls that he had brought to show the class back in it's tube. "I heard he left Haven and went back home sick. I don't know what it was, except that it wasn't anything contagious."

"Sick?" Onie repeated. "But - - but he did na look sick at all at our last class."

Grader shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know anything more about it than that." He scooped up his armload of scrolls and nodded a good-bye leaving Onie alone at the front of the class room, the last students exiting with him.

Gone. Roston Jestren was gone.

For a long moment Onie couldn't even think. She had thought the whole day before about what she would ask him about his family and then how she would respond to as many possible reactions as she could think of. She had never imagined that Roston would not be there.

A couple of young Trainees, a Healer and a Herald, came in, the first students of the next class. Onie ducked her head, evading their curiosity and left.

What could she do? All her careful plans had come crashing down, leaving her with nothing. She pushed the heavy doors of the Collegium open and strode down the steps. It was overcast, the sky low and gray, but the Palace wise woman had said it would not rain. People passed by on their way to classes, a few calling out 'good days' to her, but she responded with only bland 'ayes'.

She headed toward the Salle where she had Weapons Training, but her eyes went past it toward the other Collegium buildings. Healers Collegium.

Onie stopped. Of course, if Roston had been sent home sick, the Healers would know where that was. She started quick walking toward her new goal. She had just enough time to get there, ask about Roston and get to Weapons Class on time. Onie was willing to risk being late (a very bad thing) to find out more about what had happened to her only clue to her nephew's origins.

She climbed up the steps of the House of Healing and went inside. In the astringent-scented entryway a young Healer-Trainee sat at a desk that served as a sort of sentry point. No one was allowed to just wander around the House of Healing who didn't have business there. The girl in pale green tunics had no idea who Roston Jestren was and more frustratingly did not know who Onie could ask.

"Is there someone in charge heres then? Someone who might'a seen 'im in tha last few days?"

The girl said that there was always a lead Healer in charge, but they were busy with the sick and injured people arriving and being cared for at the House of Healing. Onie scowled at the young girl's increasingly officious tone.

"Well, then I needs ta leave a message fer Healer Luba, then. I needs ta speak ta her as soon as she's free." There was not enough time for her to wait for the girl to get anyone else for her to talk to. She had met a number of Healers who had looked over her Ground Gift, but she knew Luba best. And Luba had met Roston just a few days ago. Perhaps she was the Healer who had seen him, or at least knew who had sent him home. There was no pen or parchment to write with so she had to rely on the Healer Trainee's promise to pass on the message.

Onie thought about Roston's sudden disappearance all through weapons training, and then lunch, kitchen chores and riding practice. Lillis was surprised when Onie told her but agreed that her best chance of finding out where he had gone was through the Healers. It was difficult for her to concentrate on Mathematics class when Onie could see the House of Healing through the window, but Luba's familiar stout form never emerged to come tell her what she needed to know.

Finally free of class, Onie quick-walked back to the House of Healing only to find a young man at the desk there who knew nothing about her message or the girl she had given it to. The one thing that he did know was that he had seen Luba going home.

"What? But don' ye all Healer's stay here?" Healers always stayed at or near their Houses of Healing.

The young man with messy red hair snorted. "Where would we all fit? The Palace? We're not Heralds you know. And there are other Houses and Temples in Haven that need Healers."

"Well, where's Luba's house them?"

"She's lives in the house connected to the Astera Shrine, but she's had a long day. If you need to see a Healer - - ."

"No. I need ta see Luba." Very annoyed, Onie just left. It was late afternoon, but she had no interest in dinner. She quick-walked to Companion's Field. She had no idea where the Astera Shrine was, but Lillis would and traveling on her back was much faster. Onie called out to the first Companion she saw and very soon after that her own Lillis came trotting out from the trees. Onie climbed on and rode bareback to Companion's Stable as she explained about going out to find Luba. She had Lillis saddled and they were out the gate soon after that.

Onie had learned in class that Haven's spiral street layout was designed to discourage invasion and make the palace more defensible. It had been a very, very long time since Valdemar had needed to defend its capital city from invading armies, so the winding streets were just a delay. The Shrine was not that far from the Palace, if you were a bird. And Onie supposed a person afoot would know some hidden alley shortcuts, but she (nor Lillis) did not. Lillis quick trotted past the highborn houses, parks and the more stately tamples. The Astera temple was just past a fountain at an intersection of a street of less grand homes, inns and a couple of shops. The House of Healing was just past that. Onie hopped down and hurried past the House door to the modest one for the residence. A tall man in ordinary clothes answered.

"I needs ta speak ta Luba."

He looked at Onie's Herald-Trainee Grays and the Companion standing on the path right behind her, nodded and invited her in. He had her wait in the entryway while he went to the back. She heard heavy footsteps climbing stairs to the second story. It was a modest home, obviously shared by multiple people. There was a little sitting room on one side with a nice view of the Temple garden, and a room with a large central table on it on the other. Onie assumed that all the sleeping rooms were upstairs.

After the sound of footsteps descending the back stairs, Luba appeared. She was out of her Healer's Greens. She wore a bulky blue knitted robe that she hugged around her body with a black and white striped blanket over her shoulders. Her hair was wet.

"What is it? What happened?"

"I left a message at tha House'a'Healing fer ye ta come see me, but tha' thoughtless Trainee did na pass it on like I's asked. I needs ta ask ye about Roston Jestren. Herald Grader tol' me he was sent home sick an' I needs ta know where'ee went."

Luba's face looked blank for a moment before her brown lowered. "What? You came all the way here for that?" Her sudden angry tone made Onie flinch. She had never seen Luba anything other than cheerful. She had spent a day and a half firming her resolve to face whatever anger or outrage she might get from Roston, but she was completely unprepared for the Healer's ire.

"Why are you so interested in him?"

"He's in me classes and I was tol'ee was sick an' I was wonderin' how'ee was since'ee didna look sick jus' a few days ago."

Luba's rage increased. "Onie Thachter, I don't know if it's because of your Ground Gif or not, but you are a completely and hopelessly bad liar. Why did you come here?"

She cringed again, a chill of embarrassment in her stomach. The man who let her in had been joined by a woman in Healer Green robes in the back hallway. "I'd feel better sayin' it in some place more private."

Luba glared back to her housemates before whirling about and going to the siting room. Onie followed her in and Luba slammed the door shut. There was a padded bench under the window, but Onie stood. She picked the shortest explanation of the many versions she had thought of.

"Me sister, Mec, came to Haven more'n ten years ago ta seek'er fortune. A few years later she come back ta Fair Fields with a baby and no father. An' if I didna know'ee was too young ta have done it, I woulda said that Roston Jestren coulda been tha father, 'ee looks so much like me nephew, Sami. An' I tol' me nephew tha' I'd find out what I could 'bout'is family. If I could."

"Did you think of asking your sister?" Luba's questions came out like an accusation.

Onie's expression turned sour. "Only every day, 'cept me mother ask'er first fer tha first year she come back. Mec would only say that'ee didna take advantage or disgrace 'er. An' no one in tha town would believe that from'er an' not from me parents neither."

Hugging the blue robe to her body, Luba glared back for a long time. Onie waited for her verdict.

"Well, that isn't something trivial," she conceded. "But it could have waited until tomorrow, or at least until after I finished my bath. And that 'thoughtless Trainee' did give me your message, Onie Thatcher. I just thought it was something that could wait untill tomorrow since you didn't say what it was about." She huffed a few more breaths, calming her temper. "But I cannot tell you anything about Roston Jestren for now."

Onie drew back. There was much more behind Luba's words that what she was saying. "Why not?"

"I cannot tell you that either without violating a Healer's most sacred vows to defend her patients."

"Could ye at least tell me abouts'is family. Is they up north, er here in Have?"

Luba folded her arms over her generous bosom. Onie furiously tried to remember the names of any of the parts of Valdemar north of Haven. "Do'ee have any brothers? Do'is father live'ere?'

The Healer stood her down by not reacting to anything she asked. While Onie could tell if Luba was lying, she could tell nothing if Luba did not say anything at all. Onie looked away first.

"Don' know why anythin' 'bout'is family has ta be such a big secret."

"Even asking a question can cause harm, Onie Thatcher," Luba lectured.

Onie felt a flush of anger, but . . . she had been holding back approaching Roston about his family ever since he showed up in class at the Collegium for that same reason.

"All right, ye gots a point there, but I don' know what'm gonna tell me nephew."

"Don't tell him anything. Not even Roston Jestren's name. Not until you know more."

"More?" Onie caught that last word, a tiny hope. "What more can ye tell me?"

"I don't know. But maybe one moon from now I can tell you more. How well do you know Roston Jestren?"

She shrugged. "Enough ta talk to in class. Been ta some studyin' sessions wit'im. He wan'ed ta meet some Hawkbrothers, but you already knows that. Why did'ee want ta meet'em?"

Luba said nothing for a long pause. "Do you like Roston Jestren?"

"Onie shrugged. "Don' dislike'im. Mostly only talked about class wit'im. We both don' do well with learning geography, but I thinks'ee's better'n me wit' remembrin' all those names an' places. He don't talk bad about nobody and, "she thought for a moment, "I don' remember ever seein' him talk ta no one else cept fer class. Don' think'ee has no friends that I seen, but 'ee's only been in Haves since Harvest festival. I seen'is house where'ee's been livin'." she admitted. "I s'pose if Sami's father was like'im I wouldna feel too badly toward'im."

Lowering her eyes thoughtfully, Luba nodded.

"I hope'ees na too sick'r anythin'. Ee didna look sick las' time I see'im."

Luba snapped a glare back at Onie's transparent attempt to weasel some information about him and said nothing. Again, Onie looked away first.

"Well, I think that's all I have to say for now." Luba opened the door. "Except that I will come to you in a fortnight for your food diary. You have been writing down everything you've been eating?"

"After every meal, I writes down everything and how much," she affirmed as she was escorted to the door.

"Good." Luba smiled, the first since Onie had arrived. Onie thought that Luba's face looked much nicer with her usual smile. Onie stepped outside and Lillis, still waiting at the doorstep, picked her ears up, demanding to know what she found out.

"And Onie."

She turned around.

"Next time you show up on my doorstep demanding to see me right away, you or someone you're with had better be in mortal peril and in need of a Healer's attention." Luba slammed the door. Cringing, Onie backed up a pace from it.

She mounted Lillis and told her what happened on the way back. Her Companion flattened her ears about Luba's behavior, but she agreed that anything between a Healer and patient was held between them by sacred oath. Only the patient could break that oath, or their closest family if the patient was unable to speak. That actually told them something. Roston could not be dead, because if he were there would be no Healer's oath to defend. If Luba wouldn't speak, it had to be on Roston's say so. She supposed that somehow he might have fallen into a coma and a family member did not want anyone to know but that possibility was little more than fantasy given how healthy he had looked the last time she saw him. A terrible disfiguring accident? Lillis thought that a likely possibility and Onie had to agree that something like that would explain a sudden disappearance and a desire to stay out of sight. But why had Herald Grader said that Roston was 'sick' and had left Haven? 'Sick' and 'injured' were not he same thing.

Onie realized that if Roston had left Haven to go back north then Healer Luba would not have anything to tell her about him next moon. She would not be his Healer then, though would still be bound to protect him. Was Roston still in Haven after all? Or somewhere nearby? At the House of Healing?

They pondered it all the way home, but neither of them could work out what ailment Roston might have.

* * *

**- - - End Part 6**


	7. Chapter 7

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 7**

* * *

Onie did not see Luba for a fortnight. And when she did it was at the top of the stairs on the third floor of the Collegium, the Library.

"Oh, I am so glad to see you up here!" Luba came up the stairs with her usual bubbly cheer. She climbed the last step and Onie blushed at the open admiration. She hardly felt heroic for having done something that everyone else in the whole world could do without a thought. "How do you feel?" The Healer approached, hands up, ready to help.

"Na right, but . . ." Onie's brows furrowed in thought, " . . . I don' feel much worse'n I would onna second floor." That did surprise her. She was sure that the higher up she went the harder it would be. She kept one hand firmly on the wall, constantly reminding herself the whole way up that the wall was part of the building and the building was on the ground. It seemed to help.

A Trainee came out of the library and paused, politely holding it open for them. Luba waved him on and with a curious look on his face he went downstairs, two leather-bound volumes tucked under his arm. Onie glimpsed rows of tall shelves of books. The Collegium Library was much bigger than the first floor Palace Library that she had been allowed to use for her studies.

"Well, I'm very pleased with how hard you've been working. I don't think enough people appreciate that around here, or how much your Ground Gift affects you."

Like she did so many times, Onie wondered how much her affinity for Ground was really a 'Gift'. She considered going inside the Library, but the queasiness in the pit of her stomach was beginning to rise and the floor under her felt less solid than she liked. She turned around.

"Well, I thinks I've done enough fer t'day."

Onie hastily shifted her weight, slamming her hand on the wall. The long stairs stretched downward. Taking deep breaths, she stepped forward, not sliding her feet, but picking them up in as normal fashion as she could. Hand on the wall she took the first step. That was always the worst when she felt like the danger of falling was greatest. Once she got started, she could just keep steadily going downward, getting closer to good solid floors. Luba stepped closer to her, but she did not speak or offer help as she followed a step behind.

There was a bannister on the other side, but Onie preferred the wall for support. It felt more solid than a skinny wood rail and she could lean on the wall if she needed. Step by step, she made it to the landing, then the second floor, then the landing under that and finally safety. A couple of Blues passed by on their way up and Onie heard a snicker from one of them. She gave the teenage boys a stern glare, but they were hardly affected. But then they hurried away and Onie did not look to see what kind of evil glare that Luba gave them.

On the first floor again, Onie took a moment to breath easy. The air always tasted fresher on the bottom of the stairs than the top.

"Onie, are you attending any of the classes for the Gifted Trainees yet?"

"Eh? No one's said nothin' 'bout no Gifted classes ta me. I just sees Sunwing an' some'o tha other Mages sometimes. They don' seem ta know much 'bout me Ground Gift. Don' know what they's can teach me. An' I gots plenty'o classes ta keep me busy now." There were two chapters for her to read that night and a page of figures.

"Maybe they can't teach you something, but I think you could certainly teach some of those young ones a few things about being Grounded. You really are exceptional in that. It's too easy for people to overlook." All the Healers who had examined her had said similar things, along with declaring her to be in perfect health.

"Aye, well I'll keep workin' on tha'." She glanced upward at the space between the staircases above. It was dark, with only a glow of lantern light and the windows were dark. Onie always tackled the stairs after dark. Between riding, weapons training, chores and classes, she had little free time during the day anyway, but she preferred the night. Daylight views outside made the climb look higher.

"Well, I've come to look at your diary of what you've been eating. You've been keeping up with it, haven't you?"

"Aye. I writes down ev'rythin' after every meal."

"Good." Luba clapped her hands together eagerly. Onie led her downstairs to her room and produced her pages of notes. She lit an extra lantern for Luba to read by and while the Healer sat on the edge of the bed, Onie started reading her classwork, on Valdemar history. She was expected to know the names of all the kings and queens and all the wars, major and minor. There was a lot more about Valdemar than she ever needed to know about in Fair Fields. The expansions to Lake Evendim, the alliances with the Tayledras, a whole string of wars with Karse and other skirmishes on the southern border. She knew a lot of the names of the Kings and Queens from the ballads and stories, but she had never thought about putting them into any kind of order. That Elspeth the Peacemaker came before King Theran, or that the Pelagiris Forest was cleared of evil Magic by the Tayledras (Hawkbrothers). It had all been one big story to her before where order did not matter. But now she could see that it mattered a great deal and that getting it wrong was like confusing your father's deeds with his grandfather's.

"This is exactly what I expected." Luba looked up from the pages, her round face smiling in the yellow lantern light. "You only eat the best and not too much. You don't drink any ale at all?"

Onie wrinkled her nose. "They don' have na ale here at tha Collegium."

"Yes, but you could go into Haven. Plenty of the older Trainees do. And you used to work in a Tavern."

"Ne'er cared fer tha taste. An' workin' in'a tavern, it don' seem ta do many folks much good."

"And you only drink watered wine, tea and water? No cider?"

"I likes me apples solid, 'an I only takes as much wine innit ta make sure tha water's na ta make me sick. But I have'na had na problem wit' tha water since comin'ere."

Luba nodded. "Well, this is the Palace. Can't have the Queen and Court falling ill from foul water. But it is always safer for travelers to banish any ills that they might not be used to with a little wine or boiling." She consulted the parchment again. "You don't eat too much of the heavier foods, you like nuts, vegetables and roots and I only see one pastry here."

"Aye. I knows that too many sweets is na good fer ye an' I don' feels right if I eats too much." She smiled, remembering the story of Lord Rumpige that she had read to Saston. He had asked her to read it with him two more times.

"And that's where you're different. Everyone knows it's not good to eat too many sweets and they don't feel good if they eat too much. But they still do it."

Onie shrugged. That was true, but hardly miraculous. "Me mother taught us all that ta mind ourselves at festivals an' tha' any food we lose ta sick is jus' pure waste."

"Well, your mother is a sensible woman." She put the pages aside and looked all about the room. "I do have an unusual request."

Onie waited.

"I would actually like to see you sleeping on the hearth."

Onie tilted her head as she puzzled out what Luba was asking for. "You wants ta watch me sleep?"

Luba nodded. "It's quite extraordinary for anyone to be more comfortable on stone than a regular bed." She patted the mattress she sat on. "And I have an idea why, but I'd like to see for myself before I go any further with it."

"I don' sleep on tha bare stone. I have a bedroll. They give me a new one." She went to the shelf where she kept it rolled up. It was thick wool and down with linens that could be taken off and washed like regular sheets, but Luba did not look impressed.

"I would be stiff and sore in the morning from sleeping on anything that hard. And I have been when they need Healers out in the field. But I don't know anyone who prefers it. And don't you get cold in the winter? The stones would draw all the heat out of your body."

Onie shrugged. "I do fine, 'specially if I have wood fer tha fire. An' I banks it proper so there're na sparks."

"Well, I believe you there. But I would very much like to see it for myself."

Onie wondered what she could tell just by watching, but she supposed Luba's Healing Gift could tell her more than her eyes. "I don' mind. I gots a bed I don' use fer sleeping, but don' ye have yer own bed ta go to?"

Luba sighed. "I have to be at the House early for a patient and I usually stay overnight for cases like that. It can be here just as well as there."

Could that be Roston Jestren? Onie wondered. Luba had told her to wait a whole moon before asking, but if she was going to have the Healer in her room for the night she could not just hold in her questions.

"I know ye said ye can't say anythin'. But if anythin' has changed 'bout Roston Jestren tha ye can say I would be grateful if ye would say it."

A flicker of Luba's anger crossed her face but she sighed and shook her head. "I cannot say anything. But . . . ," she paused, " . . . it is possible that Roston Jestren might need a friend and you might be able to help. You said you didn't know him well, but do you think you could assist us?"

"I don' know wha' I could have tha a whole House o' Healers couldna, but I would help if ye kin tell me wha' ye needs. 'Specially since'ee might be famly ta me nephew. He don' have no family here of'is own ta help'im?"

Luba held up a hand. "I've said more than I should have already. I'll speak with you in another fortnight." She got up. "And I do appreciate your patience on this, Onie." Luba asked for directions to the latrine and Onie showed her where it was along with her tub for washing. While the Healer took care of her own business, Onie went back to her room thinking that she still had a few weeks before she would get any more letters back from Sami asking for more. Hopefully by then she would have something to say.

Luba went upstairs to the library while Onie read at her desk and returned before she retired. After Onie laid out her bedroll (it was still warm enough even in the mornings that she did not need a fire), Luba plopped a pillow down next to it.

"Ye gonna sit by me tha whole night?"

Luba chuckled. "Not the whole night, of course. But I assure you that I have sat up with plenty of sick patients for whole days and nights."

"I never had no one watchin' me while I sleeps. I don' know if it won' put me off it."

"I won't make a sound. Pretend I'm not here at all."

Onie found that hard to imagine. She stripped off her clothes, modestly keeping her back to Luba as she changed into her sleeping shift.

"What is that?" Luba's eyes had gone wide and she stepped back.

Onie looked down and put a hand over the talisman hanging around her neck. She tucked it in under the shift. "It's one'o those Magic charms that Sunwing give me a few days ago."

"How long have been wearing that?" Luba demanded in alarm.

"Few days. Don' seem ta have no more effect than any'o tha other things," Onie assured her.

"That thoughtless, conceited rat! I'll feed him to his bird for this. Get dressed!"

Onie put her hand to her chest. "Wha' is it?"

"Just get dressed. We're going to talk to Sunwing. Now."

She got dressed again and then followed the Healer upstairs and out of the Collegium to the Palace. The guards let them pass though they warily eyed the angry Healer. Luba headed toward parts of the Palace that Onie knew nothing about, the wing for guests. She hesitated as Luba stormed right up a stone stairway. Hoping that she would be able to find Luba on the second floor she followed at a slower pace. One step at a time.

There was no problem with finding the Healer when she climbed up the last step. Luba was pounding on a heavy wooden door fortunately not too far from the stairway. The hallway was dimly lit for night time with one lantern lit at the end. There were tapestries hung on the walls between the widely spaced doors. The floors were wood and Onie kept her hand on the wall.

"Get up you lazy, thoughtless sack of bird droppings! Right now!" Luba shouted. She rattled the door, but it was apparently locked. Onie looked either way. A guard appeared, attracted to the noise.

"Get up you lazy, selfish dung-brain! Get up, right now!"

Something made a noise and rattled behind the door, then it opened, revealing a candle and Sunwing's white hair, long loose embroidered fabric hung off his slender body.

"What do you - - "

Luba pushed her way in. "How DARE you give Onie Thatcher that talisman!" Onie peered in. The guard looked at her suspiciously, his hand on his sword. He went in while Onie stayed in the doorway, her hand still on the wall as she leaned on the doorframe. Luba actually pushed the Mage back as she hurled more insults at him. They appeared to be in a small sitting room with table and chairs, fireplace and a window with heavy curtains drawn.

"Healer, is there a problem?" the guard asked.

"YES!" she shouted. The anger that Onie had seen a fortnight ago was a mild upset compared to the storm she displayed now. "This idiot! This callous selfish FOOL OF A MAGE has tried to KILL Trainiee Thatcher!"

Onie heard doors opening, footsteps behind her.

"I have not, you ignorant woman!" It sounded like Sunwing's temper was rising, too. Onie leaned on the doorframe. Perhaps she had used up all her stamina in climbing up to the Library earlier. The room was stuffy and her clothes were tight and uncomfortable. The unease in her stomach rising, she moved away from the doorway, heading back to the stairs.

"Take that thing off of her right now!" Luba's shout carried out in the hallway and other voices demanded what was going on. Nobody seemed to notice Onie for which she was grateful. But if she brought up her dinner as her stomach was threatening to do they would start noticing her right away. Vertigo seized her as she stared down the stone steps. Gritting her teeth, her body pressed to the wall, she took the first step. Then another. And another. Her shoulder pushed aside heavy tapestries as she went. The wall was stone and that side of her felt cooler than the other. She pushed aside the next tapestry with both hands on the curved wall.

Onie paused when she heard a shriek and hoots and something breaking upstairs along with more shouting. Then she kept going. Whatever they were doing, everybody would be talking about it later. She could wait until then to find out what it was.

Finally, she gratefully sank down on the bottom step, her shoulder to the wall. Two more guards came running. The noise could be heard from downstairs. They looked at her curiously and she silently pointed upward. They ran upstairs.

After several long relieved deep breaths, Onie reached down inside her shirt and fished out the talisman that Healer Luba was convinced that Sunwing was trying to kill her with. She pulled the leather cord off over her head and tugged it away from her long brown hair. It was carved of some dense wood and not too big, but it was ugly. It had two rough pink stones for eyes in a misshapen head with horns on top and on the open jaw with a forked tongue curling out of it. There were squiggly symbols on the top and bottom of its long oval plus the holes at the top that the cord was strung through. Sunwing had given her strict instructions to wear it at all times under her clothes and never, ever to show it to anyone else.

Onie supposed that if it was actually meant to kill people then she couldn't just throw it away and she had only put on her skirt and shirt, and no vest with inside pockets to put it into. So, she just closed her hand over it. The polished wood was smooth, almost oily under her fingers.

A servant came by with a lighting stick making the hallway brighter. He went upstairs. Onie peeked at the talisman face again. She would just have to wait until someone told her the best way to get rid of it.

"Onie! Onie!" It was Luba.

"I'm down'ere!" she shouted back without looking. Luba hurried down to her.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine, but it wasna this," she held up her fist, the talisman's cord dangling from her fingers, "that's makin' me ill. It's ye doin' ye fighting up too high fer me ta want ta stay fer it."

Luba flinched away from her it as if she was brandishing a dagger and Onie lowered it, her arms resting on over her knees. Luba jumped back to attention.

"Your Highness."

Onie looked up to see Prince Daren coming down the hall flanked by two guards, their swords drawn. Onie sighed. They had gotten up the whole Palace. Everyone would be talking about it in the morning. People came down the stairs behind her. There was Sunwing and another Hawkbrother and the guard who went up earlier. And a lot of clicking and fluttering behind them. A Gryphon? Could they climb up stairs? Could they climb _down_ stairs?

"Your Highness, this thoughtless, plague of a Mage just tried to KILL Onie Thatcher."

"I did not!" Sunwing shouted back. "She's had that talisman for four days and look at her! She's fine!"

Daren looked from Healer to Mage and then his eyes landed on Onie, who could still feel a touch of a headache.

"Sunwing give me this ta wear ta see if it'oud do somethin' ta me an' it didna." She held up her closed fist. "Luba saw it and came'ere ta get'im ta take it away." Onie opened her hand.

Prince Daren gasped and backed up, his arms out as if to keep the talisman away from his men as well. Then his eyes glared up at Sunwing. "You brought this thing into our Palace?"

"So, I could give it to Onie. Even you, your Highness, were wondering about the extent of her powers. And I've shown that even that is completely ineffective."

Daren's eyes went cold as Sunwing explained his latest test. "Guards! Escort this man to his rooms and lock him in." His eyes flicked down to the thing in Onie's hand. "And get a box for that thing, if you have one. We're destroying that tonight."

Sunwing, it turned out, did have a box that would allow it's bearer to be completely safe from the talisman's effects. Princess Elspeth, her husband Darkwind and one of the Gryphons were appointed to destroy the talisman. They had to take it outside to a bare patch of ground outside Haven away from the gardens or the river. Neither Onie nor Luba needed to be there for the destruction, but it was very late, the night more than half over before they trudged back to Onie's room. They would have to get up after too little rest in a few candlemarks. But Luba was cheerful again. Sunwing was under arrest and would face the Queen's judgment the next day. Onie asked what the talisman was supposed to do. Luba said that the form of death that would befall its bearer varied. Sometimes it caused its victim's brain to bleed, sometimes it stopped the heart. And sometimes the victim simply killed themself. It had been made with unnatural and Dark Magic that required the summoning of a demon to give it power.

They were pretty sure that Sunwing had not called any demons in the Palace and the Mage confirmed that it had been made elsewhere though he was evasive about where and how he got it.

Onie yawned as she laid down on her bedroll, pulled up the coverings and blew out the candle. At this point she did not care if Luba was watching or not. She was tired and wanted to catch as much sleep as the night had left for her.

When she woke, feeling hardly rested at all, the sky outside the high window was dark gray; it looked like there was fog outside. And Luba was asleep, still fully clothed on the bed. Onie quietly sneaked out of the room to wash and relieve herself. She stepped very quietly on bare feet, but when she returned Luba was up and ready for her turn with the facilities. Onie got dressed. Her first chore of the day was to get the kitchen fires started and ready for Cook Tamira when she arrived. Luba met her in the hallway.

"It's exactly as I thought."

"Aye?"

"You draw strength directly from the Ground. Not much; I could barely see it and it's certainly not enough to count as any kind of Gift, but the flow is definitely there, in your whole body. And when you don't have it like when you get too high up off the ground, you don't feel right, and it gets worse the longer you're away from it."

"Do tha' tell ye anythin'?"

"I know for certain that if you were ever hurt that putting you in a bed would be the worst possible thing to do. You would probably never heal that way. Laying you out flat on dirt or stone would be the best thing for you." Luba clapped her hands together proudly over her discovery. Onie supposed that was something worth knowing. Heralds got hurt all too often and Healers needed to know what would really help before they did something that made it worse.

Luba had double reason to be happy, too. She fully expected Sunwing to be exiled from Valdemar for giving Onie that talisam. That did surprise Onie since she had never noticed any ill-will between them before.

"He's always been more full of himself than is good for any ten people, and he's always suggesting ridiculous things for testing your Gift, but this time he has gone too far. If he really brought that demon-spawned thing into the Palace - - the Palace! - - he's going to answer for it. And if he's capable of doing anything so dangerous then I'd just as soon see the back end of him before he does any real damage."

Onie did not feel any satisfaction over Sunwing answering for his crimes, but she was content to let Luba have her victory as they parted ways, the Healer going upstairs and Onie going to start the kitchen fires.

* * *

**- - - End Part 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 8**

* * *

Onie missed her morning class on Valdemar Law because right after breakfast a Palace page delivered a summons to attend the Queen and tell her part in the ruckus the night before. When she arrived, everyone was there, Prince Daren, Princess Elspeth, Darkwind, Luba, the guards, a couple of other Mages, the Queen's Council and, of course, Sunwing. But next to him was a tall thick branch set in a stand like a flower pot, upon which perched the biggest owl Onie had ever seen. It was mostly gray with white, black and different shades of gray on its feather tips. It glared at the whole room with huge yellow eyes as it turned its head in every direction in the unnatural way that owls were capable of. Luba quietly reminded Onie that Sunwing was a Hawkbrother after all and the only reason why she had never seen Sunwing's bond bird was because it usually was asleep during the day. The bond bird had been responsible for most of upstairs screeching that Onie had heard the night before.

One at a time, each person was called to stand before the Queen and give their account of what happened, even Prince Daren, which seemed odd to Onie; he would surely have told the Queen, his wife, what happened the night before, but the scribes were recording it all, so Onie supposed that the Law required an official account. Luba went before Onie and told them about seeing the talisman and knowing of it from a written account of another Healer whose patient died horribly from the effects of one just like it. Since the new Magic had come to Valdemar the Healers had to learn to detect a whole new category of ailments caused by ill-Magic and serious curses. Cases of magical injury were still rare (most people still seemed to prefer to settle their disputes with fights, arms and courts) but when they turned up, the Healers needed to know if they should use their own Gifts and herbs or if a Mage was called for as well.

One Councilor pointedly asked why Luba was in Onie's room when she was undressing in the first place. This gave Luba an opportunity to immediately expound on her discovery about Onie's Ground Gift and how she drew strength from the stones of her hearth as she slept. The sour-faced highborn woman immediately lost interest in her inquiry and stopped Luba in mid-enthusiasm.

When it was Onie's turn, she gave as full and true account of what happened as she could. She had the talisam for four day without knowing what it was and the only reason why she felt unwell the night before was because Sunwing's rooms were on the second floor of the Palace, not because of anything magical.

Sunwing came last. He vigorously defended his 'test' of Onie's Gift, referring to it as her 'Power'. Onie always thought that power was something that a person controlled, not something that was useful for some things and debilitating for others. Sunwing declared that proving the talisman was ineffective against Onie's Gift justified the risk, and since he was sure that it wouldn't work there was no real risk at all. The stony frowns on the faces of Queen, Consort and Councilors showed that they did not agree.

Sunwing swore on his bond bird's life that he did not create the talisman himself. It came from a shadowy trader that Sunwing had acquired other pre-Mage-storm artifacts from, though none of the other things were dangerous. The discussion of who this nefarious trader was and what other dangerous objects he had was cut short by the Queen assigning the task of investigating that to Prince Daren.

After that they were all dismissed. Onie barely made it in time to eat her lunch and receive Cook Tamira's scorn for missing her chores, but she cut short her complaints when Onie told her she had been commanded to appear before the Queen.

It was only after riding class that Onie found out from Barro that Sunwing had been exiled from Valdemar. Even the other Tayledras thought he had gone too far with testing Onie's Ground Gift with a demon-created talisman. If word of the Queen's judgment had reached the stables then it had to be all over the Palace and possibly Haven as well. But Barro did not know that Onie had any part in it. He had only heard that a Hawkbrother Mage had been exiled for practicing Dark Magic.

Lillis flicked her ears in disgust for Sunwing. That caught Onie's attention. Her Companion had been at first surprised and then uncharacteristically silent about Sunwing during riding class. Onie stayed to help with grooming her.

"Maybe ye be put out that ye didna know tha' I had tha thing when we was ridin'?"

Lullis turned her head and looked back with guilty blue eyes as Onie brushed her flank.

She shook her head sadly. "I'm shamed I didna think a you when I first heared about what tha talisman was for." Lillis shook her mane back at her that she had no idea that her Chosen had such a thing, but she should have. Onie laid her head on Lillis's side.

"I guess me Ground Gift worked so good you didna know it was even there. But I'll ne'er take nothin' from no Mage without knowin' what it is and what it's for. An' not wit'out tellin' ye." Lillis nodded her head and stretched her nose back to her. Onie went to her and they rested their heads together; it felt like nothing could go wrong when they did that. After that, Onie finished grooming and rubbing down Lillis and went to wash up and find some of the other students in her morning class to catch up on what she missed. They were more eager to hear about what happened in the Queen's Council. They wanted gossip, but the truth satisfied them well enough. After dinner, when she was studying in her room she heard a knock at the door. When she opened it, she found Luba.

"He's been banished." Luba hustled in.

"Sunwing?"

"And good riddance. He'll be out of here in the morning and it looks like he's not going to be in any good favor with his own. They're not happy about that talisman, either."

Onie felt a little bad for Sunwing. He could be annoying and demanding and he treated Onie like a Gift to be studied and not a person, but he had always been cheerful and direct about what he wanted. But if he brought something truly dangerous in the Palace then there probably wasn't anything else the Queen could do. She wondered if she should go say good bye to him, or was he under guard? He had guards on either side of him during the Queen's Court.

"But enough of him," Luba went on. "It seems to me that these Mages are running out of ideas on how to test your Gift, so I'm going to propose that we Healers come up with a few things."

"Aye. Gots anything in mind?"

Luba's enthusiasm dimmed a bit. "Well, nothing outside of what we're doing now, I'm afraid; keeping up with your exercises climbing stairs, your fast-walking and riding. But I would like some others to sit with you at night to see what I saw. Your Gift is really remarkable, but very subtle. After that, I was thinking that by next spring we might have some more interesting things."

"Next spring?" Onie's brows rose. There hardly seemed to be any rush for Luba to come down and tell her this.

"Those Mages might have all the time in the word to try out new tricks, but Healers are always in demand, especially in winter when all kinds of sicknesses go around."

"Aye." Onie nodded. That was true, but there was more. "Ye just wanted ta come down ta gloat about Sunwing?"

"Well," The Healer pausued, "yes, I won't say I'm not glad he's gone. Especially after what he did. But I wouldn't say I'm gloating."

That got a grin back from Onie. "Well, if what'ee did was as bad as all ye say, I s'pose its fer tha best that'ees gone."

Luba's smile returned a bit and she promised to speak to her fellow Healers about observing her Gift while she slept and she left. But two days later Onie had not heard anything more from Luba when her Companion showed up at breakfast.

"Aye?" Onie spied the familiar white legs in the kitchen's high window. A white nose poked down into view.

"Oh, what does that Companion of yours want? She'd better not be thinking of coming in here," Tamira warned over a sizzling pan as Onie pushed a chair over to the window to stand on it. Lillis pawed the ground and bobbed her head, then backed up so she could peer in. Onie turned back to the others preparing breakfast.

"The Herald who was s'pposed ta take Childorn's basket to'im canna come. I'll have'ta take it. Lillis knows tha spot."

"What?" Tamira objected. "I need you here, not ferrying out food to one man having a long holiday in Companion's Field." Whatever sympathy the Cook might have had for the old merchant had long since passed.

"Oh, I kin wait 'til I'm done'ere," Onie reassured her.

"Hmmmph." Tamira vigorously broke eggs into the pan, but Onie knew that there would be not a single egg shell fragment from any one of them. "I don't know why the Queen puts up with that man spending all his out there and not working like the rest of us." She stopped short or criticizing the Queen. The Collegium's Cook would not criticize Queen Selenay or any member of the royal family in any way, nor would she suffer to hear anyone else do it.

Onie went back to her tasks and soon enough all the food was ready and winched up to the Common Room. Onie quickly assembled the basket and then ate her own food. Her fellow Trainees wondered aloud what she would find when she took the basket out, but Onie only muttered that she did not know between bites. She still had to get to class after delivering the basket. Lillis pawed the ground outside.

The others offered to take care of her dishes and she hurried out. Lillis was waiting at the door. Onie could mount Lillis backback, but not with a basket in her hands so her Companion knelt and she climbed on. It actually felt more natural riding bareback than in the saddle with layers of leather and padding between them, but Onie still had to concentrate on the horizon and take deep breaths when Lillis crossed the bridge. Trotting past trees, dells and fresh water springs, Lillis headed toward a part of Companion's Field that Onie had never been to. There had once been a temple of which only the bell tower remained. Onie had been told that whenever any Herald or Companion died the bell in it rang and all the Companions gathered around it. But nothing like that had happened since she had come to Haven. And while the temple was gone, some of the stones from it's base were still there; Lillis stopped at one of them. The basket and napkin from the previous night's dinner sat on top of it.

Looking all around and up toward the bell tower, Onie did not see anyone around, either Human or Companion, nor did she see a tent or any other sign that someone was camped out nearby. The stone was tall enough for her to lean over from Lillis's back and snag the old basket and replace it with the full one. Lillis turned around right away and quick-trotted back toward the Collegium. Looking in the basket, Onie found chicken bones and a few stray bitter greens. Childorn was eating at least.

After that, Onie and Lillis always took the food baskets out to Companion's Field. Since she was always in the kitchen at mealtime anyway, it seemed reasonable for her to do it, but she had to hurry to keep from being late to class. And she never saw any hint of Bronner Childorn or Hyer on any of those trips except for the empty baskets. The other Trainees were intensely interested on the first day, but she had nothing to report. They all thought it a bit odd for someone to be Chosen just to become a recluse in Companion's Field, and the days were getting shorter and colder. As far as anyone could tell, no one had spoken to either Childorn or Hyer in weeks, or if they had, they were not talking. Some people started taking bets about whether they would show themselves again before first snow.

Onie was returning from a dinner delivery after sundown when she spotted Healer Luba coming out of the Collegium.

"There you are!"

"Aye. Jus' returnin' from takin' a food basket out ta Bronner Childorn."

Luba's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I didn't think that anyone except the Queen's Own and Prince Daren had even talked to him."

"Well, I ne'er seen'im. Jus' takes tha baskets out. Been packin'em up in the kitchen all'is time an' Lillis knows where ta take'em." She climbed down off Lillis's back.

"Oh." Luba sounded a little disappointed, but moved on. "Oh well, that's not something we need to be wondering about. I was hoping that you could come with me to the House of Healing." They went inside, Luba walking with Onie while she went down to the kitchen to put up the basket.

"Ye wants ta watch me sleep there?" They entered the kitchen. Cook Tamira had gone for the day and a few Trainees were cleaning up. One of them took the basket.

" Oh, no, no, no, that's not it. I would still like to do that again, but," Luba clapped her hands together and changed the subject as they stood together in the hallway. "You were interested in young Roston Jestren, and I was hoping that you might help me tonight with, um, the recovery."

Onie took a few seconds to recover from her surprise enough to answer. She could hardly have forgotten about Roston, her only possible link to her nephew's other family. But she had vowed to not speak of it for at least a moon and they were still a few days short of that. And she caught a strange catch in Luba's tone. There was much more than behind her words.

"What do ye wants me ta do?"

"I want to introduce someone to you. Someone . . . connected to Roston Jestren."

Onie's heart beat a little faster. Was it someone from Roston's family? Maybe even Sami's father himself? She asked but Luba held up restraining hands.

"I need you to meet them yourself. And on your honor, Onie Thatcher, I need you to make no judgments whatsoever. None. If you cannot promise me that, we will not have this meeting at all." Luba meant it.

"Aye. I got nothin' ta make any judgments on. Judgin' afore seein' does nobody na good anyway. An' if meetin' this person will help Roston, then I kin do me part."

This satisfied Luba and they headed for the House of Healing. Onie meant what she said, but that could not keep her imagination from running over the possibilities. She was sure it had to be some relation to Roston. And if it was really Roston's father, then why were they meeting at the House of Healing? Was there some affliction, one passed father to son, in the family? Once she thought of that she realized how it could explain everything. Some inherited disease that left the sufferer untouched until they reached a certain age when it started to rob them of their health, twisting and deforming their bodies while leaving their minds alert while they and the Healers could do little to even slow it down. Onie did not know the names of such afflictions, but there were certainly tales of such tragedies. And could Sami have it, too? She force her mind away from that thought; it was only speculation anyway.

They entered, Luba leading her right past the front desk. They went down long wood corridors of doors, a long central strip of worn carpeting muffing their steps. After a few turns they went down steps to the cellar and there were more doors and corridors. Luba finally stopped at one. Another Healer waited for them. She was about Luba's height with iron gray hair in the candlelight, not gray from a mix of white and dark hair, but all a faded as one solid color. She had a lined face that must have been very pretty when she was younger. Luba introduced her as Healer Ingress; she was a Mind Healer.

Ingress gently knocked on the door. "Chellie? It's Ingress. Onie Thatcher is here to meet you now."

There was the sound of someone moving around inside and a soft 'Come in.' Ingress opened the door, they went in and Ingress closed it.

"Onie, this is Chellie," Luba said in her most cheerful voice.

Chellie stood in the corner at formal attention, hair tied back under an embroidered scarf and hands clasped in front. It was Roston Jestren in a girl's dress.

She was not a sister or some other female relative. Onie was quite sure that the person standing before her was the same one who sat next to her in class. But . . . Onie took a step closer. It was clearly a girl, a slender girl with a boy-like body that had not turned toward womanhood yet, but still a girl. Onie was shocked that she had not seen through the deception until now. But she had to admit that Cook Tamira could have passed for either man or woman without a proper introduction. Some people were like that. And Roston/Chellie was at an age where it could be difficult to be sure, but she had clearly presented herself as a boy when she arrived, wearing boy's clothes.

"Onie?" Luba prompted, her tone high and tense. Chellie looked too terrified to say anything.

"I'm pleased ta meet ya Chellie, properly this time. But . . ." She hesitated about saying anything about Chellie's disguise as Roston, but maybe that was why there was a Mind Healer with them. "I don' know why ye wants ev'ryone ta think ye was a boy. I mean, I heared about girls pretendin' ta be boys 'cause their families don' wan'em ta go ta war, but ye ne're looked like na fighter ta me. I ne'er sees ye in any o' tha weapons classes and I have'ta go ta those ev'ry day." What kind of backward people did her nephew's father come from that the girls had to pretend they were boys to just go to the Collegium? Onie had heard about people like that in the south, but not in the north.

Chellie put her hands to her face and started crying. Ingress immediately went to her. Arm around the girl, she led her to the small room's single bed. Onie looked to Luba whose minimal head shake told her to say nothing. They stood for a long time while Ingress comforted Chellie who seemed to alternate between sobbing and hysterical laughing.

"See there. Onie can see who you really are." Ingress cooed when Chellie was quiter, head buried on the older woman's shoulder; the embroidered scarf was pushed back and the brown hair underneath was still as short as any boy's. "And nobody in the whole world can lie to Onie Thatcher. That's her Gift. No one, not even the Queen or the Companions can speak a lie and not have her know it." Chellie nodded her head and let out a happy sounding sob.

Some signal passed between the Healers and Luba nudged Onie toward the door. But before they left, Chellie lifted her head again from Ingress's shoulder. "Thank-you, Onie. Thank-you," she said in Roston Jestren's voice.

"What's I done?" she demanded as soon as they were out and down the hallway, out of hearing range. Luba did not answer until they went through another door into what looked like a store room with shelves of boxes and linens and a work table by the back wall.

"You have confirmed to Chellie who she really is. And she needed that confirmation very badly."

"I don' know how noone kin na know who they is. Is tha' what tha Mind Healer is fer?"

Luba laughed, her round face grinning broadly.

"But why's she pretending ta be a boy? Would'er family na let'er come ta Haven? So she has ta pretend ta be a boy ta run away an' escape?"

Still smiling, Luba shook her head. "No, it isn't that kind of drama." She took a deep breath. "Chellie isn't pretending to be a boy. She was born a boy; physically she _is_ a boy. But the spirit inside her, the mind and soul inside her is definitely that of a girl. But she has been pretending to be a boy for so long just to survive, she needed more confirmation than what Ingress could give her."

Onie's brow furrowed. "Oh. Ye means she's like, like Thesilie tha Bard'r . . ." her mind went blank on the names in any other similar tales.

Smile broadening, Luba clapped her hands together. "Exactly like that. Except this isn't a story. And instead of a man in the body of a woman, we have a woman in the body of a man. Or rather a boy, which is very fortunately for her. Too often we see these cases as adults after serious damage has already been done."

"What damage? 'She's not crippled'r twisted by it. All she has ta do is change'er clothes."

"Oh, and then when she has to lift her dress to relieve herself, what is she going to say to the other ladies? Pardon me? They'll all run and hide. She'd be ostracized immediately. They wouldn't even look at her. And there are too many men, especially out in the countryside, who will look on her as an abomination to be attacked or killed."

Onie had to agree that there were plenty of people with small minds who looked down on anything that did not fit into their plan for the world, but there were plenty of other people who didn't. "There's two old men in Fair Fields, retired from the Guards an' livin' tagether. I don' know if one of'em thinks'ee's a woman're not, but most people in me home town leave'em be. An' they'as some of tha few who would come out an' fight an' stand guard when tha Mage-storms come and made them change beasts."

"Well, it sounds like you come from a very sensible family and town. Unfortunately, Chellie's family is not so forgiving except for a few who were able to send her to her family's house here in Haven."

"Who sent'er?"

Luba raised her hands. "I don't want to get into the specifics. Chellie knows you want to know about her family but," she paused, her eyes unfocused for a few seconds, "but Ingress says it's too soon to ask now. I'm sure that Chellie will be able to tell you something later."

"But - - "

"Later, please, Onie. You saw how upset she was. And grateful. I'm sure she'll tell you what she can about your nephew later."

Frustrated, she nodded and they left the store room, going back upstairs. It had been awhile since she sent her last letters to home, but it could be weeks before they arrived. And she did not have enough information to send. Yet.

She parted with Luba on the steps of the House of Healing. She could inquire about Chellie the next evening with no promises. She headed back toward the Collegium but her eyes went to Companion's Field. Hand on her spectacle frames, she scanned the green hills in the twilight, but she did not see a familiar white shape in the half-moonlight. She changed direction. She had to tell someone.

After only a few steps on the bridge, Lillis appeared and trotted to her side of the Terilee. At the edge of the Palace gardens, Onie told Lillis everything she had learned.

Lillis tilted her head and pawed the ground.

"I don' know na more." Her frustration returned. "We could na ask no more'a Chellie. But Luba give me leave ta come visiting tomorrow night after dinner." She grinned. :I'll let ye know what I finds out then."

* * *

**- - - End Part 8**


	9. Chapter 9

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 9**

* * *

The next evening Luba sent Onie away with nothing. Chellie was still not ready for another visit. Nor was she ready on the next night or the night after that.

On the morning after that, Onie started her day as usual, working at her kitchen chores. A huge metallic BANG stopped everyone in the kitchen.

"What in all the icy hells is that, AAAAAHHHHH!" A colossal spray of water burst from an overhead pipe catching Cook Tamira full in the chest, shoving her bulky body back into the baking table. A platter of sliced bread clattered on the wet floor.

Clang, clang, BANG!

"AAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"

Whirling around toward the high-pitched scream, Onie saw Nyle go down under a narrow steaming stream shooting out from a boiler pipe. She grabbed a heavy pan and dove forward thrusting it in the path of the suddenly vengeful water.

"Get help! Get a Healer!" she shouted at the other two Trainees who had not been directly hit. They ran out, shouting up the stairs as they went.

"I am going to KILL the people who did this!" Spluttering, Tamira climbed to her feet amidst soggy bread slices. "Look at this - - "

"Go get something cold on him! Right now!" Onie shouted at her, still angling the boiling water and the spray as safely away as she could, both hands on the pan handle that was rapidly growing warm. Nyle was still on the floor. Tamira stopped vowing vengeance, her face going pale. She had worked in kitchens longer than Onie and knew how much damage a boiling pot could do. She hustled him up toward the cold cellar; Nyle screamed again. Onie dropped the pan and grabbed a big metal bowl. While keeping out of the spray as much as possible she captured some of the cold water that had attacked Tamira. It was as cold as they could get. If it had been winter, they would have taken him outside to put in a snowbank, but first snow had not come and the weather outside was just cold, dreary, wet and muddy.

Help arrived, people shouting, pushing tables out of the way. Tamira had grabbed a pitcher of water and she and Onie carefully poured it over Nyle's side and arm. Thankfully the spray had been aimed too low to get him in the head. When the Healers arrived they took over and demanded more fresh cold water. Onie and Tamira got them whatever they asked for.

Out in the main kitchen, the tables had all been moved out of the way, but little else. With water squirting out from places where it wasn't supposed to be no one knew what to do about it or how to stop it. People started scooping up water with buckets, to dump outside, their boots trampling on soggy bread and griddlecakes. Tamira stomped around shouting, trying to protect the platters of food that was less vulnerable to a good soaking or had not been in the line of fire.

"What's going on here?" A man in brown work clothes came in; he was the Palace Artificer. "Turn that off." Everyone looked back at him blankly. Tamira demanded to know what he had done to her kitchen. The man pushed and splashed his way passed bodies to a back room of the kitchen and they all heard a loud screeching of straining metal.

The water slowed down to a trickle and then died. The artificer came out again, demanding to know how such a bunch of useless idiots could possibly be running the Valdemar. Tamira snarled and advanced with some loud and choice words of her own. For once Onie thought that Cook's formidable temper was well placed. How was anyone supposed to know about valves and where they were and what they did, not to mention that a calamity like this could even happen? The artificers had certainly not told anyone about them before.

Housekeeper Gaytha had arrived and started ordering Trainees and Heralds to grab trays and carry them upstairs. Fruit went up whole, cheese in blocks with utensils for cutting. Some meat and eggs were soggy but Gaytha pronounced them edible and they went up. She dispatched another Trainee to the Palace kitchen to retrieve more bread. Others were sent with pitchers for water because the water-logged kitchen no longer had any for drinking. Onie bent to help with bailing the ankle deep water out and the bucket line succeeded in lowering the water level considerable, but a set of white legs stamping the ground outside the kitchen window caught her attention. She turned around to the shelf where Bronner Childorn's basket sat, safe from the wet chaos. Onie had already packed it earlier.

"Oh, God and Goddess," she muttered, grabbing the basket. Gaytha nodded to her as she left, but Tamira did not even notice. Lillis was waiting impatiently outside. The bell for first class rang, but Onie doubted that anything would be on time for the rest of the day. Lillis quickly trotted out to Companion's Field. It was chilly, on the verge of winter; Onie felt the chill in her water spattered clothes, but nothing was soaked through, not even her boots. There was no one around and Onie knew that all the Companions knew what her thrice daily errand was and stayed away. So, as they came around a clump of trees and bushes, Onie was shocked to see another Companion and a man in worn black clothes at the place where they left the food.

Bronner Childorn and Hyer were waiting for her.

Lillis slowed to a walk and stopped before them.

He looked like a man who had been sleeping rough for weeks. Hair limp and ratty, clothes weathered, stained and frayed. They were the same black velvets he had worn, returning to the Palace after his wife's funeral. Onie doubted that they could be saved.

Childorn did not look quite as old he did the first day Onie saw him. Chose up, she saw that his eyes were the color of a blue sky. His lined face was dirty, forehead smudged. He had weeks of beard growth and it was not good. It unevenly grew in thick white and pale gray patches on his chin and under his nose while it was wiry and patchy everywhere else with a little down his neck on the sides. He looked like a beggar. Next to him, Hyer was perfectly white as all Companions were, but he had a shaggy uncombed winter coat; his tail and mane had a few sticks and bits of leaves clinging to them. His eyes were a paler shade of deep blue than usual for a Companion and a startling match to his Chosen's.

Childorn sniffed, rubbed the mustache under his hook nose and eyed the food basket that Onie held resting lightly on Lillis's withers. Then he looked up at her.

"Little far in your years for a Trainee."

"Didna' get Chosen 'til las' summer."

His blue eyes narrowed.

Onie shrugged. "Sometimes they Choose late." Lillis lifted her head.

"Sometimes very late," he agreed, nodding to himself. "That accent's south of Haven. But not too far. West of Kettlesmith. Tumot's Hill? Daryville? Red Creek? Fair Fields?

"Fair Fields," Onie admitted, surprised by his evaluation. Childorn smiled. He had a very cunning and devious look to him. Then he sighed, his brief satisfaction vanishing.

"I thought that I'd finally worn out the Queen's patience when I didn't see the basket."

"Pipe broke in tha kitchen. I was cleanin' up tha mess when Lillis come around ta remind me." She held up the basket. "I had yer food packed up an' ready afore it happ'ned." She held it out, offering it to him.

Her stomach growled. He took the basket and asked if she had eaten and embarrassed, Onie admitted that she hadn't.

"Well, come down here and sit and help me eat this. I swear you people have been trying to fatten me up and I hate wasting food."

Onie swung her leg over and slid down off of Lillis's back. He led her over to a flat stone, part of the temple ruins and took everything out. He precisely divided everything in half and gave her hers on the napkin while he took his in the basket. He poured a full cup of water for Onie and drank his from the flask. They ate in silence. Nearby, Lillis shyly averted her eyes at first before finally touching noses with Hyer. She stood still while he appraised her. His approval was gentle and Lillis looked very young next to the much older Companion though he was only a little bigger than she. They had similar builds with long legs meant for running.

"You've got no Mind Speech, I see," he commented after most of the food was gone.

"Nope. Don' have na Gift fer that."

Childorn exchanged a long look with his Companion and Onie could see the words passing between them.

"Ye gots Mind Speech. How's ye have a Gift like tha' an' not get Choosen 'til now?"

His brows rose. "Not everyone with a Gift is suited to being a Herald."

Hyer nickered.

"At least not when they're young and stupid."

Hyer nickered again while Childorn took a long drink from the flask. "Me. I'm a trader," he continued after putting it down. "My father was a trader; my mother was a trader; their parents were traders and their parents were traders before them." He sighed. "There was a blacksmith back there somewhere, but I don't know how that happened." His eyes went to her; he was waiting for a laugh and Onie decided not to give him one. He went on.

"I learned how to train my Mind Speech from foreign Mages far away from here. So, did Euliss." His eyes closed and he swallowed before gasping out a new breath, his eyes flying open again. "My wife. Her family were traders, too. Always traveling. Buying and selling the most amazing things. Squeezing out the right price. She really knew how to deal."

Onie could see he wasn't talking to her anymore, so she said nothing. But he did turn to her.

"My wife's dead. The gods had her ripped right out of my heart. But I have to go on living because that mangy beast says I have to."

Hyer snorted.

"I'm sorry fer yer loss."

"Nowhere near as sorry as I am." He finished his flask and put it in the basket. Finishing the meal, they cleaned up and Childorn got up and stretched. He looked toward the Collegium and the weariness retuned to his eyes. Then he looked toward Hyer, back to the Collegium and then to Onie.

"The first thing I have to do is go into Haven and sign the documents renouncing all my property and possessions to my children. But as soon as we show ourselves they're going to be all over me before I can get Hyer saddled. But you two," he pointed, "can fetch us saddles and we can be out of here quick before they know I'm up and about. Because that lazy animal," he pointed to Hyer, "won't carry my bony ass on his naked back unless he has to."

Hyer curled his lip but his eyes were amused.

Onie looked toward the Palace gounds. Why not? Everyone would be missing classes that morning because of the kitchen disaster. And she sympathized with Childorn about not wanting to be a spectacle.

"I kin do that," she agreed.

Childorn's thin lips grinned. He stuck out his hand. "Thank-you."

She took it. He had a firm handshake and she returned it.

"I'm Bronner Childorn, just in case you hadn't heard. But call me Bron."

"Onie Thatcher. People call me, Onie."

"Is that what you prefer?"

"Aye. Me mother picked it out herself an' she's got a good eye."

His grin broadened. "Onie it is. Now let's see how fast you can get us that saddle."

She grinned back, mounted Lillis and they left at a fast trot. They went right to the back of the stable, Onie only dismounting when Lillis stopped where the saddles were. Onie grabbed Lillis's regular work saddle and put it on. A stable boy offered to help, but she waved him away. When she finished, she paused. Did Hyer even have a regular saddle if he had been un-partnered for so long? Lillis shook her head and Onie took one of the spares. Then she grabbed a riding cloak for herself and paused again. White or gray for Childorn? Was he a full Herald? She was not sure. She picked gray; it was less conspicuous than white. She strapped it on back with the saddle and they were off again back to Companion's Field.

Bron greeted them with a big grin and he soon had Hyer saddled as well, the basket tied on back. He threw the cloak over his shoulder and mounted with confident ease. They then moved as close as they could toward the Collegium while staying hidden. The other Companions seemed to know what they were up to and stayed away.

"All right. Quick as we can to the gate. You tell them to open it and I'll just keep behind you and we'll be gone before they know it. Then I'll lead you to my house and - - what are you doing?"

Onie looked up. "Tying meself on so I don' fall. You said we needed ta go quick."

"Fall? From a Companion?" Bron's tone rose with incredulity. Lillis's ears switched back and forth.

"Aye. It's part o' me Gift."

"You can't Mind Speak, but falling off of your Companion's back is your Gift?"

"Aye." Onie finished with the straps and sat up straight.

"That's quite a Gift you have. You'll have to tell me more about it later." He turned back to the Palace grounds visible between the bushes. There were not many people around. "Go."

They bolted onto the Field, Onie leaning far forward, hands on Lillis's neck. Green grass, bridge and then hedges rushed by. They only slowed down for Onie to yell, "Open the gate!". The guards were quick and then they were out and gone.

Hyer took the lead and the Companions raced down the streets, easily going around animal and human traffic. Breathing deeply, Onie kept her eyes forward on Bron's back and Hyer's tail. With every long-legged stride, Onie could tell how much Lillis was enjoying this. Somehow that made the running easier to bare. Past the large houses of the highborn and the better patronized temple, they entered streets of the more well-off guild members and finally stopped at the gate of one at the end of street. Black draped the gate posts. Bronner stopped to rip the fabric off. A servant appeared, mouth open in shock.

"Master Childorn - - !"

Hyer shouldered his way past him and Lillis followed. There was space for a well-tended garden and a few fruit trees between the fence and house which looked like three stories plus an attic. It was far grander than Lord Drogon's modest lodging. Their Companions stopped and Childorn jumped down and was up the steps before Onie had gotten herself unstrapped. She dismounted and wondered if she should follow. It wasn't her home and she did not want to get in the middle of what could be private family time. Hearing a gasp, Onie looked up. Two women, one blond, one red-headed stared down from a balcony before fleeing back inside. Onie decided to wait outside. She heard some muffled commotion, but nothing too loud. A couple windows were open. The sky above was gray and Onie felt a few thin drops of moisture.

Hyer's head went up and he moved down a path on the side of the house. In the back there was a small private garden of herbs and flowers, scattered with leaves, the spring and summer plants gone dormant with the approaching winter. Hyer went to a ground floor window. It opened and Bron leaned out.

"This might take awhile. These women are too selfish and bitter towards each other not to fight over their mother's grave."

"Father, please!" a woman's voice pleaded. He ignored it.

"I'll send someone with something and . . . " he leered, "help yourselves."

Lillis' ears perked up and Hyer turned, lowered his head and stuck his nose into a fragrant bush. While Onie took a seat on a covered bench, the Companions nibbled on the well-tended foliage. Some late blooming roses, white ones, disappeared one by one as Lillis began cropping off the blossoms and slowly munching, savoring them. The moisture from above turned into real drizzle but not enough to disturb the Companion's light snack.

A servant came out a door and rushed over with a tray. He offered her good brown bread and butter and heavily watered wine and then retreated back inside. Onie ate slowly. Occasionally she heard raised voices form open windows. They seemed to be going though the house, room by room. One time she heard something heavy falling over.

A bit of white caught her eye and Onie jumped to her feet when she saw the Queen's Own, Herald Talia coming around the corner. She was a small, kind, older woman with a heart-shaped face and graying hair. Onie had mostly only met her when the Mages were still new to and experimenting with her Ground Gift. Lillis, her mouth open wide over one of the last remaining white roses, suddenly startled and backed up. Rolan came around the corner after Talia. Hyer was un-phased by the sudden appearance of the presumptive leader of the herd, or as near to a leader the Companions had. He continued to nibble the garden plants.

Onie stood. Talia had a very amused look on her face, especially as she gazed at Hyer.

"I'm surprised that Bron came here with you, Onie."

She shrugged. "I was late bringin'is breakfast on account'o tha pipes in the kitchen breakin' and he was watin' there wonderin' if he'd worn out tha Queen's welcome. Then'ee wanted ta come'ere ta settle'is family without causin' a fuss an - - -'"

A window flew open above.

" - - there been some disagreein' about'is wife's things."

Something flew out the window and landed on a stone path. Onie glimpsed an ornate pink vase before it shattered into several pieces on the stone pathway.

"Father!" a woman's voice screamed.

"Well, that settles the argument which is the only thing I care about . . ." Bron Childorn's voice faded away as he moved away from the upstairs window.

Talia grinned.

"I thought I'd wait out'ere fer'im while they settled things inside," Onie finished.

"That was very considerate of you. But I think I should take over now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Lillis was already moving toward the side of the house as Rolan took her place and Onie joined her. She turned around.

"Bron said they could help themselves, ta tha garden, I mean. Bein' it'is garden I thought there weren't no harm."

Rolan, a large and proud Companion stallion did not look hungry. Hyer paid no attention to him at all and kept grazing.

Talia nodded approval. "I'm sure it's fine, Onie." She sat down on the bench. "I'll wait for him here."

Knowing a dismissal when they saw one, Onie and Lillis hurried to the front of the house and back out to the street.

* * *

**- - - End Part 9**


	10. Chapter 10

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 10**

* * *

It was all over the Collegium that Onie had gone into town with Bron Childorn and everyone wanted to know every detail about it. Having completely missed all her morning classes they came after her as soon as she had Lillis unsaddled. Her Companion winked and galloped off leaving her to deal with the curious horde. Throwing her hands up, Onie let them follow her back to the Collegium.

Food was being ferried to the Common Room from the Palace because the Collegium kitchen was still full of artificers fixing pipes and Onie could not eat there or on the second floor. She let them all follow her to her room while three of them ran upstairs and then back with food and drink and more people. Onie got the chair and desk while the others found their own places on the bed and floor. Most were Herald-trainees, from her classes and the kitchen. Others she knew in passing, plus a couple of younger Heralds. Onie ate her fill first; if they wanted to know something so bad they could ask. There was talk about the kitchen. It would not be ready until the next morning at the earliest. The kitchens in the Palace would fill in the gap until it was and all the Trainees would help bringing food and cleaning up the Common room. Nyle had been burned badly on his arm and side by the hot water, but the Healers said that he would recover fully.

That was welcome news, but it was Slatha Ivyhill from Onie's equitation class who finally got impatient enough to directly ask.

"So, what was he like?"

Onie took a bite and gazed back at the girl. "Who?"

"Childorn." Her tone lowered; her lower lip stuck out. "You took his food out to him every day. Have you seen him before? Is that why you went out with him?"

"I dinna see'im before today. I was late on account o' tha pipes an'ee was waitin' thinkin' tha Queen'ad lost'er patience wit'im."

"Well, why'd you go bolting out like that?" Swan Morenthallen asked from the bed with three others.

"Ee wanted ta take care'o his fam'ly business without ev'ryone fussin' over him when he come out. Thought'ee could get it done quick, but when 'ee got ta tha house 'ee found his daughters fightin' over their mother's things. I stayed outside while all that was goin' on."

"Well, what's he like?" Slatha demanded again. "Is he sad like Talamir?"

"Not sad. Least not 'less he mentions'is wife. Came right out an' said it that tha gods had ripped her right out'o his heart. An' who's Talamir?"

Talamir had been the Queen's Own before Herald Talia. He had been a Herald whose Companion was killed in the Tedrel Wars and was Chosen a second time by Rolan. But everyone said that he was never the same, his soul half gone with his first Companion.

Onie shook her head. "Ee's not sad like that, 'cept like I said, when he talks about 'is wife. Ee's a Mind Speaker 'an'is wife was, too. Learnt how ta use 'is Gift from foreign Mages on account 'o'is family being traders, too, and travelin' an' all. An'ee could tell what me home town jus' from hearin' me speak na two sentences."

"Well, that wouldn't be that hard. I mean, your accent's pretty thick, Onie," Trainee Cheeter amended quickly.

She did not like the word 'thick' being applied to her. "Seems like ev'ryone understands me fine."

"If Childorn and his wife Mind Spoke to each other," a girl on the bed wondered aloud. "Do you think they were life-bonded? And that was why Childorn was going to kill himself?"

Everyone looked at Onie. She shrugged. "Don' know. I did na ask 'bout 'is wife. Seemed too pers'nal." If Childorn and his wife had been life-bonded then that would explain quite a lot about his long solitude in Companion's Field. A life-bond was something like the pair-bond between Companion and Chosen. Or more so, depending on who you asked. There were plenty of tales about pair-bonded couples and adventurers and the tragic separation of them was a favorite dramatic topic of the Bards. "He was only sad when 'ee mentioned'is wife. Otherwise, 'ee seemed right ta me. Think'ee even enjoyed breakin' out'o the Palace an' all. An' Hyer . . . Bron's got tha same blue eyes as Hyer. Exact same."

The discussion moved on to one of the most reclusive members of the Companion herd. To Onie, Hyer seemed no more sad than Childorn.

They all startled when they heard a bell and realized that they had taken much too much time for lunch. Onie hustled them out, making sure that they took all their plates and cups and food with them. Everything was being put in a tub in a side room to the kitchen that the artificers were not using. The Palace servants would pick it up later and make sure everything was cleaned.

Onie was late for equestration class, but since Slatha and Cheeter were also late their tardiness was shared. Onie wondered if Bron Childorn was going to show up at some equestration class as well. From the way he rode Hyer it did not look likely that he needed any instruction at all. They all went back to the Stable together when they were done and tended to their Companions.

When she returned to the Collegium, Onie got a very rude surprise. There was no hot water for her tub to clean up in. The artificers were still working in the kitchen. She very briefly considered waiting to see if there would be hot water soon, but then decided against it. She grew up with cold water baths. Wood was often too costly to heat water with all the time except in winter when they needed the fire for warming the house. She stripped, stood at the side of the tub and washed her whole body with soap and water and then dunking her head in the tub after she had unbraided her long brown hair. She had goosebumps the whole time but she was clean afterwards. She put on fresh clothes and went to her room. She met a Palace page in the hallway, coming downstairs. He bowed.

"The Queen's Council requires your attendance immediately, Milady."

He led her to the Queen's Council Chamber which was thankfully on the first floor just off the Palace's great hall. The Queen, Prince Daren, Princess Elspeth, Dean Teren, and a couple other Herald-Mages were there. Bron Childorn sat at the table as well. He was clean now and had shaved off his scraggly beard, but the gray mustache remained, neatly trimmed over and at the sides of his mouth. His longish hair was tied back. And he wore a new set of Whites. Everyone in the room was a full Herald. Except Onie.

Onie curtsied to them. Dean Teren asked her to describe the talisman that Sunwing had given to her. She gave them a description of the horned head with it's pink eyes and squiggly symbols. Bron raised his brows, apparently impressed. They asked a few questions about it and the box it came from. Prince Daren asked if she had told Lillis about it and, embarrassed, Onie admitted that she hadn't. Since it was under her clothes all the time, she mostly forgot it was there except when she changed. After a few more questions, the Queen thanked and excused her. Onie curtsied again, but Bron held a hand up.

"If I might say, Selenay," he addressed the Queen by name. "I think you should tell Onie here more about exactly what Sunwing did. And what's got to be done about it now." Everyone looked at him.

"If you ever find Torgle's hidden stash of the dark Magic that he's been peddling, then Onie here might be the only person you have who can safely shovel it out for you." The Queen seemed to consider this and with a glance toward Daren she addressed Onie, still standing before them.

"Onie, Sunwing admitted - under Truth Spell - that he acquired the talisman he gave you from a trader here in Haven. He did not know his name, but knew he could acquire certain magical artifacts from him. That talisman was the most dangerous thing that Sunwing acquired from him, but this trader hinted that he had access to other more powerful things that had been shielded from the Mage-storms. Unfortunately, this trader has left Haven, but Bron here has identified him from his description as a Sebeth Torgle from the lands south of Valdemar. We will be searching for this hidden stash to destroy it, which unfortunately may take some time, probably many months or longer. Bron is correct that we may need your help when we locate it since you seem completely immune to any magical ill effects."

"I'll helps anyways I can - -" Onie stopped the 'your Majesty' that was about to come next. The Queen had specifically requested that no titles be used when she was speaking only among Heralds. But Onie did not feel herself up to address the Queen by her first name. "Ma'am," she finished. The Queen advised her that the mission to search for Torgle was a state secret and not to be spoken of to anyone outside the Heralds in the room.

"An Lillis?"

Selenay smiled. Yes, she could tell her Companion, but only if no one else who did not already know was around. Then Onie was excused. After that, she went looking for dinner.

She headed off to the Palace kitchens. Onie got her food and took it back to her room. Even though the Palace kitchens were more than three times the size of the Collegium, able to produce anything from the Queen's luncheon to a full-scale banquet, the Cook told her she could not eat there. By the time she got back to her room, everything was cold. After eating her solitary meal by candlelight she took the plate to the kitchen. The pipes were all restored and the artificers were checking them by banging and turning their valves. Onie asked about the hot water for her bath and after getting a blank stare from one young man, she had to take him back to the laundry area and show him.

"Oh." He gazed up and down the length of the pipe leading to her tub. "Oh." He looked embarrassed. "We'll have to fix this." Onie sighed, letting him go. She did not care how they fixed it, so long as they did. But she felt a little embarrassed that after a lifetime of cold and lukewarm baths, she had gotten so attached to hot water since coming to Haven, like she was getting soft. Or worse, old.

She settled down to reading a book on Valdemar law (on the chapter that one of the other students had told her was discussed in the class she missed while she was out in Haven with Bron). It was incredibly boring and difficult. She wondered that any Heralds could give out any law at all if it came from books like this. The only law she had heard of or seen given out in Fair Fields when someone committed a minor crime or some property dispute came up had sounded very sensible. She had seen Heralds come through her home town, but she had never once had reason to be witness to any of their courts except for curiosity along with most of the rest of the populace.

Under the noise of pipes and occasional shouts down the hall, Onie sensed a much quieter step. She smiled and opened the door just as Saston reached it. He straightened to attention and then smiled.

"Well, come in. It's cold out there."

He hurried in and climbed up onto the bed. She took the book from him and leafed through it. "Got one ye wants ta hear?"

He nodded. "The one about the lazy Mage, please. They think I'll grow into a Mage Gift. So, I wanted to read that one."

Brow furrowed, Onie opened the book to look down the list of fables at the front. She had never heard any tales about Mages when she was Saston's age. She ran her finger down the lists; the book contained dozens of short tales; many were titles that Onie had heard her mother and sometimes her father tell her and her siblings when she was young. She, her mother and her sister Mec told them to her nephew Sami and sometimes read them from the borrowed books from Brother Callus's Temple, copied for sharing by the two acolytes. She saw several titles with Mage or Magic in the titles that she did not know at all.

"Hmmmm, I never heared that one." Her eyes shifted to Saston, sitting next to her. "Now which one would it be." She ran her fingers down the list of titles. Then she turned the page.

"That one!" Saston pointed at the title where her finger stopped. The Lazy Mage. Onie flipped the pages to the story. The little drawing on the first page was of a room with dishes on the table and things strewn about on the chairs and floor.

Naren the Mage was too busy doing Magic all the time to do anything else, including cleaning, cooking and even bathing. He expected others who came to him for Magic and his students to do these things for him. He was a great Mage and a learned teacher, but very lazy in his personal habits. But finally the people and students stopped coming because of the mess, and they stopped inviting him to their homes and festivals because of his grimy fingernails and smelly feet. But Naren, who had only time for Magic found a way around doing any tedious cleaning. He cast illusions that he and his clothes were clean and that his home was tidy. It worked wonderfully for a time and Naren because popular again. But even a Mage as great as Naren could not do Magic all the time and one day after staying up the whole night doing very difficult and complicated Magic and eating a big meal before going to bed, Naren overslept very late and the illusions faded away. Some other Mages came at midday and found his tidy home all gone to ruin, clothes on the floor, dishes on the bookcase, tables grimy, flies, crawling bugs, mice, dirty socks hanging from a mirror.

Saston giggled at Naren's long list of housekeeping sins, but he turned more serious when Naren and the other Mages found that under the illusions (which worked just as well on Naren as on other people) that bugs had come and eaten through all his Magic books and scrolls, including the ones that he had borrowed from his fellow Mages. And his home had become so infested that the vermin were going to the homes of his neighbors, who had not been able to find the source of all the mice and bugs because of the illusions. Everyone was mad at Naren and a big mob gathered and took him to the river, dunked him with all his clothes on and scrubbed him with soap. They went to his house and emptied it of all the broken and rotten things and scrubbed it and everything in it with soap and strong ammonia. And Naren had to re-copy the things he had borrowed.

Onie paused. Someone was in the hallway, she could hear soft step coming closer. She put her finger to her lips to stop Saston's question. A moment later there was a knock at the door. Putting the book aside, Onie got up and opened it.

Healer Luba stood there in green robes and holding her own candle. Between the flooded kitchen and Bron Childorn emerging from Companion's Field, Onie belatedly realized that she had completely forgotten to inquire about Chellie at the House of Healing.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot - - "

"Oh, that's quite alright." Luba bustled out. "I heard about the pipes in the kitchen. That happened a few years ago in the House of Healing and it was horrible. And everyone has heard about you and Bron Childorn." Luba's eyes sparkled and Onie wondered what anyone could possibly be said about her _and_ Bron Childorn in the House of Healing.

Luba clapped her hands together. "Oh, but I see that you have a little guest." She smiled maternally. From the looks of Saston's squirm, she thought that he did not care for the 'little'.

"Oh, aye. He comes over an' we reads together. They give him a book'a'fables fer catchin' up on'is letters so quick. We even read the one 'bout Lord Rumpige."

"That's wonderful." She pointed at Saston as if he was about to snatch a pastry from the table. "You mind your sweets if you don't want to grow sideways when you grow taller, too." She turned back to Onie. "But what I came to ask is if you could come over to the House of Healing tomorrow? Chellie would be very happy to have you come over for dinner."

"Aye. I can be there. I don'ave kitchen chores fer dinner tomorrow." _Finally!_ Onie felt a flutter of excitement that her patience and caution might be rewarded.

"Good," Luba answered happily. "It's at the same time as dinner at the Collegium. I'll be expecting you." Luba turned to go, but paused in the doorway for a final warning. "And you mind your sweets young man, or you'll end up like Lord Rumpige."

Onie closed the door. "See what I says about Healers an' that story?"

Eyes wide with new understanding, Saston nodded back.

* * *

**- - - End Part 10**


	11. Chapter 11

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 11**

* * *

Luba was there in the entryway of the House of Healing the next evening. She warmly greeted her and then immediately ushered Onie downstairs to the kitchen to collect their dinner. The kitchen was different from the one in the Collegium. There were no firepits for roasting meat, but lots of extra stoves and boiling pots. Onie supposed that most people sick enough to have to stay in the House of Healing would likely need simple, more boiled and plain foods to eat. They got a dinner of smoked meats, dark bread, boiled greens garnished with chopped nuts and roots. Carrying a tray, Onie followed Luba down through the labyrinth hallways until they reached the same door they had been to a few days ago. Balancing her tray, Luba knocked and after a voice replied from behind the door, they went inside.

Chellie stood at attention, wearing the same dress and head scarf, plus a string of blue glass beads hanging around her neck. They matched her blue eyes. She immediately had to step aside so they could put their trays on the table next to the bed. There was barely enough room. Chellie took the chair while Luba and Onie sat eating with plates in their laps. For a while, everyone kept their noses down toward their food, the sounds of eating the only ones in the room.

A sideways glance toward Luba told Onie that the Healer was prepared to eat the whole meal in silence.

"Ye been eatin' plain fare like this tha whole time'ere?"

Startling, Chellie froze, then gulped. "Yes. It is plain. But the Healers say it is . . .healthful."

"Of course it is. We would not serve anything else here of all places." Luba took another bite of boiled greens as if it was cake.

"They say how long ye's s'posed ta be'ere?"

Chellie lowered her eyes. "They say that's my choice. But I don't know how I can go out. People will just look at me, like what's 'he' pretending to be, going against nature. And people here have seen me as a boy. They won't believe that this is how I'm supposed to be." Ashamed, she looked down at herself. Unfortunately, Onie had to agree. She still looked like a boy in a dress.

"Well, maybe when yer hair grows out. . . . " That would take months. Would the Healers let her hide out in their House for that long? And if she was physically a boy, she was just going to look more and more like a man as she got older. Her shoulders were already too broad. And other things would develop. "I mean, on ye head. Not . . . anywheres else."

"We've been giving her special herbs to stop any of that," Luba said, "some of the same ones that we women take to control our moons for when we don't want to have a baby. It's just a different mixture. And Chellie has been very conscientiously taking them," she complimented, but Chellie just looked more miserable.

"They help, but they can't change the way I look. Everybody here's seen me as Roston! That's all they'll see! My cousin back at the house, I swear he'd probably slit my throat in the night if I ever came back there like this." Tears welled up in her eyes as all her fears came out. "And I've been gone so long, he must have written back home to tell Lord Drogon that I'm sick. They'll send someone, if they haven't already before winter comes."

"Now, you wrote a letter to your brother's wife right away and that would get there first. And she'll do what she can to stop it."

"But her father won't listen to her." Tears ran down her face. "He keeps her chained to that house all the time. It would have been fine if she could have come with me; he wouldn't have missed her. It's just spite that he keeps her there. And my brother won't help." She picked up a napkin and wiped her face, blew her nose.

Luba turned to Onie. "Her brother's wife knows about Chellie's true nature; she's the only one in her family who knows, and accepts it. And she was the one who arranged for her to come to the family house in Haven, hoping that she might find some help for her 'condition' here."

"I'm supposed to be learning how to trade for the Manor from my cousin. But he doesn't want me. He likes it here and he doesn't want the heir's younger brother taking his job someday. So, I thought I could maybe meet one of the Hawkbrothers here at the Collegium," Chellie admitted, choking back more tears, "Everybody knows they do everything. And they have Magic; I thought maybe . . . they could change me. Make me right." Her eyes were bright with hope.

"I've seen that look before," Luba added. "Most people when they ask after Hawkbrothers like that are just looking for a little adventure. But a few think they can find help for something more important."

"She says Magic doesn't work that way," Chellie told Onie.

"No, it doesn't. Quite a lot of it - more than people think - is just tricks and illusion. And after the Mage-storms, even the best adepts won't be able to do the things they used to. Not for a long time."

Chellie hung her head. "I can't go back and be Roston again. Not after all this. I'll take vows at one of the Temples before I do that. I swear it."

"It has not come to that," Luba assured her sternly. She put her mostly empty plate on one of the trays. "And even if I or Ingress thought that you were suitable for the cloister, it's not as easy as they say in the ballads." She stood and laid a comforting hand on Chellie's shoulder. Touching her face, her hand pushed the scarf back from the still-short hair. Even if it was long, people would still likely look at her twice and wonder.

Onie had no idea how to make Chellie look more feminine. Onie had never been pretty, but she wasn't ugly either and she had never, ever had trouble looking like a woman no matter what she wore, even in her Grays, wearing pants and boots, the curves of her hips and bosom clearly showed. In fact, she had to stitch in extra folds in places, just to make things fit better. The dress Chellie wore just hung down off her shoulders. She could have been wearing jeweled, blazing colors like Sunwing and she still would have looked no more womanly than he did.

"Aye." Her brow furrowed with the beginning of an idea. "Ye might get somethin' out o' those Hawkbrothers other than Magic. An' more import'nt, too. They knows how ta dress in what they is. Like women an' men."

She only got puzzled looks back. "Sunwing would dress in sleeves, an' colors an' jewels that ye only see on a court lady. But 'ee ne'er looked like na woman. An' I seen a woman Mage. She wore all that stuff an' still looked like a woman. An' she was straight as a stick. But I ne'er had doubt abuot her bein' what she was."

Chellie smiled. "Oh, their clothes are so beautiful. But I couldn't walk around in anything like that." There was just a hint of hope in her eyes.

"Hmmm, their _hertasi_ servants make all their clothing for them. I'm sure they could make something a little plainer than the gaudy clothes they like to wear all day. And they are very skilled. And quick. There are two in the Palace who tend to any of the Tayledras there."

"Really?" _Hertasi_ were supposed to be small lizard creatures who served the Tayledras, but Onie had never heard of any living in the Palace. But she had not heard of Gryphons or _dyheli_ staying in Valdemar either until she was introduced to them.

"They're very shy and they prefer living below ground, but they have a small cellar suite. And I would expect the other Tayledras must be feeling guilty - at least they should be - about what Sunwing did; I'm sure they owe us a favor. Yes, I think they will." Luba looked down with confidence. "I'm sure they can help. I will ask them. Their Healers at least are every bit as good at keeping confidences as ours. But I can't promise anything until I've spoken to someone," she warned and Chellie nodded up at her, holding back a hopeful smile.

"Thank-you, Onie, that was very clever of you to think of that. We Healers are not well versed in fashion. Our clothes are generally already decided by our calling." She swept a hand down over her long green tunic.

"Aye. Glad I could help."

"Yes, thank-you. For helping. And for believing me," Chellie added.

"And now, Chellie." Luba nodded down at the girl. "Onie has some questions to ask you."

Sitting up straighter, Chellie's expression turned serious. "Luba told me that you wanted to ask me something. About my family."

"Aye. Did they tell ye what?"

She shook her head, her eyes flicking up to the Healer. "No, they wouldn't say. Just that it was important."

Onie sighed. Finally, she could ask, speak the question with good hope of an answer. "More'n ten years ago, me older sister come ta Haven, lookin' fer a better life'n what we have back home." She shook her head. "We come from a good town, wi' good folk an' all. But it's always tha same. An' ya hear tales from the Bards an' travelers an' traders comin' and goin'. An' ye jus' hope that some'o those stories might come fer ye. Tha good ones, na those nightmare things that scratch on people's doors durin' tha' Mage-storms." She shuddered. "But things jus' stay tha same, season in an' season out. An' dreamin' don' put food on tha table, an' ye gots ta get on livin', an' ye never gets ta goin' anywhere 'cept fer festivals an' such. An' na very far neither. But Mec, she planned and saved'er coin, an' just up an' did it, without askin' permission o' noone an come up'ere. . . ."

Chellie's face had changed to complete shock.

"Mec? Your sister is _Mec_?"

Onie nodded. "Aye," she answered cautiously. "Ye knows'er then."

"I-I-I don't _know_ her. But-but I know about her. I mean, everybody . . . I mean that's why Delias's father hates her so much." She gulped.

"Well." Clearly pleased, Luba looked down at them. She started collecting the dishes and cups and the remains of their meal, stacking the two trays on top of each other. "It looks like you two have a lot to say to each other. I'll just take these back to the kitchen and leave you alone. Onie, just let me know when you're finished. Just have someone come find me; I have to stay tonight anyway." She picked up the trays and let herself out.

Onie and Chellie looked at each other in the lamp light.

"Sami, do you know where she took him?" Chellie breathed.

"Aye. He's growin' up in'a same house I did."

She gasped back and just stared in wonder for a moment. "Delias and Kendron never knew where she went, I mean, my brother and Lord Drogon's daughter. She never even told them her family name; she was just 'Mec'.

"Ye see'er then?"

She shook her head. "I was just a little when it happened, back at the manor. But everyone heard about it when they heard that a servant ran off with Lord Drogon's grandson. And then it came out that it was the maid who had him. And he was Kendron's bastard."

"So, that's Sami's father's name, then, Kendron. Kendron Jestren? An 'ees yer brother?"

Chellie solemnly nodded.

"Mec wouldna say nothin' 'bout'im 'cept'ee didna disgrace'er. An' our mother did ev'rthin' she could ta worm anythin' out 'bout 'im an' why she come back home with a baby an' na father."

Chellie's brow creased with puzzlement. "Then how did you know?"

Onie smiled back. "It was Sami who tol' me that Mec once said'ee looked jus' like'is father. An' even if she hadn't, I'da just had ta look at ye once and wonder meeself. Sami looks a lot like ye. But smaller. Ye looks like yer older brother then?"

"Uh, yes." She nodded, her expression turning thoughtful, her blue eyes concerned. "Did she ever say anything about Delias?"

Onie shook her head. "Ne'er heard tha name afore now. Mec sent na more'n a half-o-dozen letters tha whole time while she was in Haven. Said tha' she got along real well wi'tha lady of tha house she was servin', but nothing past that. Guess we only asked abouts Sami's father. Didna' know'ee already had a wife. So, Sami's this Lord Drogon's grandson, is'ee?"

Surprisingly, she shook her head back. "No. Lord Drogon is Delias's father; she's his only blood heir. He had a son who died; they said he drank too much with his friends and fell off the manor wall one night. And there was a younger son who didn't live after he was born. Lord Drogon's got brothers and they have sons, but he doesn't like them; he says they'll divide up the land. So, when Kendron courted Delias he adopted my brother and me and made him his heir, even before they were married, just to keep the others away."

For the next candlemark, Chellie told Onie about all the Jestren family secrets that she knew.

For her own part, Chellie had always known that she was a girl for as long at she could remember in her small village on the Terilee River, Haverfort. But when she announced this when she was very small, she got a beating along with the severe warning to never, ever tell that to anyone. Her brother held her arm over the fire until she promised, swearing on her mother's safe afterlife that she would never again say she was a girl. And when she cried later about it, her mother pulled her hair and told her never to speak blasphemy. Being the much younger sibling of a brother and a sister more than a decade older made it easy for her to hide in their shadows and watch and see how true it was that she should never tell anyone else her secret. Girls kept house and had babies and boys worked outside and brought home meat from hunting. Any other life was for lazy outsiders who had wild ways and would cheat and steal from the land and from people who worked hard to mind the gods' law and keep the land whole and healthy.

Soon after that, Chellie's world changed. First, their father died at the beginning of one winter, his heart giving out as he was shoveling the first snow of the season away the path to the home they shared with their mother's sister's family. The next spring, when the ground un-fronze enough for them to finally dig a proper grave for their father's body, Kendron arrived with Lord Drogon's daughter, Delias, as his traveling companion. She was a red-haired beauty with a reputation for being as opinionated and arrogant as her father and who, for reasons that no one would speak of at the time, left her father's manor to be a camp follower for the Guards who patrolled the Terilee River, normally for bandits, but during the Mage-storms much more dire threats. Everyone deferred to her, bowing and addressing her as 'Milady' and she was allotted a special private place to sleep in a house crowded with two families.

Lord Drogon arrived and apparently liked what he saw in Kendron. They relocated to the Lord's manor house, leaving behind Chellie's older sister who had married into the Greenleaf family the year before. Kendron and Delias were married the following summer and soon relocated to the Jestren family house in Haven. The Jestren lineage as minor nobility was only a few generations old, so the Haven house was relatively modest with only a single servant and cook. It was maintained partly for status, but also because they did far better custom with their own man dealing with the merchants in Haven for their land's furs and hardwood lumber than they ever did through third parties.

Lord Drogon's home, Munthunt Manor, was a house of Men. Men worked in the fields and minded the trails; they cut down trees, hunted, fished, and trapped animals for fur but only when the earth-wise Gifted gave their blessing for the land's abundance. And when the men were not working, they played rough; archery, fighting practice with swords and wrestling; they drank and sang rough songs. The adult women and men lived separate lives, coming together at meals, at festivals or funerals and to share a marriage bed. The boys among the younger children could not wait to escape the guardianship of their mothers, maids, and the Manor tutor, to leave behind the minor chores assigned to the littles and join the adventure.

Then word came from Haven that Kendron and Delias were to have a child late that fall. At winter festival, word came that it was a boy. Lord Drogon lusted after a true male heir who would properly displace his younger brothers and their issue and any other Jestren cousins with an eye on his title. After the winter snows and then the Mage-storms that made travel perilous and forced Drogon to stay and defend his lands for the unnatural horrors they spawned, the Lord of Munthunt Manor went there himself. A little more than a two moons later he was back from Haven along with Delias and Kendron and news of disaster.

Onie listened to this part of the tale intently; this was the other half of the story that Mec would never tell. The baby was revealed to have been born to the household maid, who abscounded with it after Delias tried to pass it off as her own. At first, Lord Drogon demanded they find the maid, Mec, and put her to the sword, because he thought she had taken his only grandson. But a Midwife stepped forward and revealed the truth, fearing that the true mother of the child would be punished just for trying to keep her own son. More questions revealed that Delias had likely tampered with Mec's moon-powder, tricking her into the pregnancy. And the final truth came out that Lady Delias though young and healthy was barren and incapable of bearing a child.

"But," Onie wondered aloud, "wouldna Lady Delias be mindin' Mec bein' wit'er husband. I mean, mos' women do."

Chellie hunched her shoulders. "Not if she was with them, too."

Eyes wide, Onie stared back. Her sister, Mec, had done that? "I kin see why she wouldna tell Ma 'bout it." Onie had heard plenty of raunchy tavern songs that came out after people had consumed enough ale, but she had no first or even second-hand experience with couplings beyond the ordinary man-with-woman. She would never have expected her boring home town (let alone her own family) to be capable of producing anyone who would even think of really doing such things. Until now.

"Lady Delias, she . . . likes to be with women," Chellie finished quietly.

It had been Lady Delias's preference for women that had drawn her to the Guard camp - over her father's loud objections - where there would be women soldiers. She struck up a steamy relationship with a young Sargent, who was a friend of Kendron, which was how they met. The relationship fell apart about the same time that Kendron went to his father's burial which was why she came with Kendron; she simply wanted an excuse to get away. When her father saw her in the company of a man he found acceptable (and who was even a descendant of the first Lord Drogon Jestren and a distant cousin), he did everything he could to encourage a match. Heartsick and angry over the breakup with her female lover, Delias took the path of least resistance with her parents. Kendron was happy to become Lord Drogon's heir and gain a better position for his widowed mother and young brother. And he knew about Delias's appetite for women and accepted it as long as she did her duty to produce an heir and grandson for her father.

"Ye knows an awful lot about Lady Delias's doin's."

Chellie nodded. "I was her servant. After she came back from Haven in disgrace, and after losing Mec and the baby, she didn't have any choice but to live in her father's house. She wouldn't talk about everything that happened in Haven but . . . she wasn't the same. She used to defy her father as if it was nothing, but not after everyone knew what she did."

After Lady Delias took up with a house maid who wanted to be a lady of the house, too, Lord Drogon forbade his daughter from ever having a women serve her.

"They were already calling me 'little-heart' in the yard because I was still doing little's work just so I wouldn't have to go out on the hunting parties. I didn't care; I was never one of them anyway."

The candle on the table crackled and flickered, catching their attention. Chellie hastily went to a chest to get another. Onie stood.

"Ye give me a lot ta think about. An' thank-ye, fer tellin' me about where me nephew comes from. I jus' gots ta think abouts how ta tell'im."

"Could you come tomorrow?" Holding the new candle over the old one, Chellie looked up, her blue eyes pleading. "Tell me more about Sami and where you live? Delias . . . she knows what she did was wrong. That she wronged Mec. And Kendron. She just never knew until then that she wanted to be a mother so much. And . . . she can't."

"I gots kitchen chores t'morrow dinner, but I kin come after," Onie agreed. Chellie relaxed and Onie smiled. "I'll see ye t'morrow."

Chellie smiled back.

* * *

**- - - End Part 11**


	12. Chapter 12

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 12**

* * *

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Sami,

I found who your father is. He's from the North and is the heir of a Lord. But I need to write your mother to tell her that I know. She did not want to tell anyone about what happened and I have to respect that

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Sami,

I learned who your father is. One of his relatives is at the Collegium and heshe looks like you. I am writing to your mother, too. It is her secret and she should be the one to tell you

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Sami,

I learned more about your father's family. He's from the North and one of his relatives is at the Collegium in a couple of my classes. I can't say more . . . .

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Mec,

I learned about what happened with you and Kendron Jetstren and Lady Delias here in Haven and I understand why you wouldn't tell Ma and Pa why you would not say anything about Sami's father. Kendron's brothersister is at the Collegium and is in a couple of my classes . . . .

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Onie put her pen aside and frowned down at the letter fragments on the parchment. She had been trying for days to compose letters to Sami and Mec. But anything she told Sami betrayed Mec's secret, one that her sister had withheld even from their mother. And Chellie only knew what she had been told by Lady Delias. Over the dinners she shared with Chellie for the last few days, Kendron's younger sibling admitted that there were many things that Delias would not speak about. Had Kendron and Mec been in love? Had Mec and Lady Delias been in love?

And Chellie's relationship to Kendron only complicated things. How could she tell Mec what she knew without saying how she found out? Kendron might have said something about his younger brother, but Mec would only know about Roston Jestren and it would take another page or more for Onie to explain about Chellie, if that was a story she was even entitiled to tell. Roston Jestren was dead and gone; Chellie had been adamant about that, especially after she received her first new dress just that day.

There were two _hertasi_ who lived in a small suite in the below ground levels of the Palace. They were an older couple whose children were grown and on their own and they discretely tended to the needs of any Hawkbrothers in Haven, Princes Elspeth's consort, Darkwind, and a few Mages left after Sunwing's departure. Onie had never met the _hertasi_ couple, but Chellie had and she enthusiastically praised their work, skill and manners. They never questioned what she needed, as if they were asked to fashion female clothes for a young male body all the time. They measured every part of her and recommended colors and styles. Luba had strongly advised against anything like the flamboyant colors, skirts and sleeves that Tayledras Mages favored and Chellie admitted that the Healer was right that she should wear something practical, for now.

Chellie showed Onie her new dress, blue (matching her eyes) with white trim. Chellie twirled and danced about, reminding Onie about how little she could recall ever seeing Roston Jestren smile. It was a simple, basic style, always in fashion and easy to make. But this new dress was flattering and very well fitted. The little bit of gathering at the waist made Chellie look like she had more female hips and even a little waist; the collar and a little padding in front implied a slight bust. Beyond that, the _hertasi_ had trimmed Chellie's hair. It was still too short, but the dark wavy locks now made her face look rounder. They had also shown her how to use face powder and color on her cheeks, eyes and lips. Now Chellie really did look like Roston Jestren's sister. Chellie's blue eyes radiated happiness that verged on wonder, as if she had just discovered that she was a royal princess.

Luba and Ingress had been very pleased with how well the new dress turned out and talked about Chellie soon going out into Haven with them. Their suggestion was like cold water on Chellie's new enthusiasm. Suddenly fearful and touching her short hair, she asked if it wasn't too soon for her to be seen yet. The Healers accepted this and asked about the other new dresses that the _hertasi_ were making for her. But later, when Onie was leaving, Luba confided in her that they were concerned about Chellie hiding out in the House of Healing. She had to go out sometime. She was not physically sick, so she had been making herself useful by cleaning and helping out. There were always things that needed to be done in the House of Healing and Chellie did all of them, clearly hoping that if they liked her work, no one would think of putting her out. She was certain that if she ever returned home, the men would take her out one night to the woods, beat her up and kill her, or worse. Ingress, especially believed her. Even with all the legends of heroes, Bards and Heralds who had crossed the lines between man and woman, in most parts of the countryside, it was only accepted in song and story.

"The problem is, she's under age and Lord Drogon is her legal guardian," Luba said that evening as they walked down the front steps of the House of Healing. "She's barely fourteen, and I suppose there are plenty of children who enter apprenticeships younger than she is, but her guardianship was formally approved by the Crown when her brother was made heir. She's actually next in line, though I doubt that would continue after we tell Lord Drogon about her disposition. But we can't just terminate the guardianship without some explanation."

"If ye tell Lord Drogon, won't'ee solve ye problem by dis-inheriting'er?"

"Then she would be without any family or a place to stay and then the only place she could go would be the Temples." Luba shook her head. "I must admit that she might do better than we ever expected in a Sisterhood. Before she came here, she was a privileged lordling, but I haven't heard her complain once about any of the work we've given her, and some of the cleaning jobs around here can be very unpleasant. But there are only a few orders who would take Chellie as she is now, and some of them are likely to demand that she be made physically into a woman."

"Aye?"

"Castration." Luba scowled over the word. "But we won't do anything that permanent until she's lived as a woman for at least a year and only if there's no other way. The herbs we've given her have taken well and stopped her turning into a man for now. She has time."

"Aye," Onie agreed as they stood together in the chilly evening; there was still no first snow, but the nights were cold enough for it now. "She told me ye wouldna do it. Said she hadna worked up tha nerve ta do it ta herself, but she was afeared o'tha pain an' bleedin' ta death. An' tha if she lived, she'd be worse off, if anyone found'er."

"She told you, then?"

Onie nodded. "Aye."

Luba smiled. "Good. Ingress will be pleased to hear that she took you into her confidence. That's very important for her to make the transition."

"How does ye do it?" Onie had wondered aloud. "Make a boy inta a girl? Or a girl inta a boy. In tha ballads they finds a wizard. Or die pinin'ta death o'er it."

"It's complicated. There are herbs and medicines, and sometimes physical alterations, if that is the only way the patient can live in their own body and be at peace. And usually they have to start a new life in another town. These cases are very rare, but the family that can accept this kind of change is rarer still. But they still need confidants, to help them make a new life for themselves."

Back in her room at the Collegium, Onie now stared at the lamp on her desk. She had become Chellie's confidant. But she was also her nephew's confidant. And her sister's. Chellie wasn't the only one who had started a new life. Mec had done that more than ten years ago, when she left home for Haven. And then came back. But even with a fatherless son, she was still welcome. Chellie had no safe home to return to. And even if she did not return, she feared that he would send an assassin to make sure that she could never inherit anything, or just have her killed our of anger that she was not the younger 'son' he had adopted after all.

Suddenly turning, Onie listened. She heard small feet shyly creeping toward her door. She got up.

"It's a bit late fer yees ta be out isnit?" she asked a surprised Saston at her door. He gulped, holding his book to his chest.

"You weren't here earlier," he answered, his brown eyes turned up to her. "Or yesterday."

"Oh, aye." Onie bit her lip and opened the door for him. "I been out a bit this week, I s'pose."

Saston went to his usual spot on the bed and Onie sat down next to him.

"Where were you?"

"I was at tha House'a'Healin' wi' Luba an' a friend."

Saston's eyes went wide with worry. "Are you sick?"

"Oh, no, not me. Luba an' all'a'Healers say I'm tha healtiest person they sees," she reassured him. "It's me friend. She's got things tha Healers need ta be tendin'."

"You won't get what she has will you?"

"Na likely." Onie half-smiled. "But she's got family problems, an' that's makin' it worse. So, I been havin' dinner wit'er fer tha pas' few days ta cheer'er up."

"Oh. Is she going to die?" he asked solemnly.

"Na. But she's afeared'er family'll do'er in. They's na very nice."

"Like my uncle?"

"Worse if ye asks'er. They wouldna take kindly ta her seeing tha Healers bouts'er condition."

Saston nodded. "My uncle . . . he always blamed my mother for getting sick. And dying. Said she was weak and cost him money."

Onie put her arm around the boy and hugged him to her side. His small arms went around her waist as far as the could go. "Well, we know what he says isna very important. We jus' needs ta get me friend ta see that way 'bouts'er family." She looked down at his head, pressed to her side.

"So, ye wants ta meet me friend? Maybe ye can settle who's family is worse."

A grin threatened to break out on Saston's lips. "Does she like stories? I can bring my book." He held up his volume.

"Aye. I can ask'er. But I first gots ta ask if she wants more visitin'er than me."

"Why are you visiting her?"

The room was silent for a moment.

"Ye knows I said I gots a nephew back in Fair Fields wit' me sister an' parents? Well, I ne'er said afore, but he's like ye. He gots na father. An'ee asked me afore I come'ere if kin find outs anything about where'ee comes from, 'cause that's where me sister had'im, here in Haven. An' I find out that this friend o'er in tha House'a'Healin' is part o' his family. An' she's been tellin' me about'em," she glanced back at her desk, "An' I been tryin' ta work out tha words ta tell'im. An' me sister, that I knows."

Saston's brown eyes went wide. "I never heard anything about my father." He looked down, as if ashamed. "I never asked."

Onie laid her hand on his shoulder and he leaned in for another hug. His mother was dead and had taken what she knew to the grave. There was little chance that he would ever get reliable information from his aunt and uncle even if they know anything. At least Sami had his mother, who could tell him something.

The candle on the desk crackled and guttered. It was getting late.

"Ye wants ta come back t'morrow fer a story? It's getting' a bit late and we gots na classes t'morrow, so we gots all tha time we need. An' I'll come lookin' fer ye if Chellie wants visitors."

He nodded and climbed down off the bed, taking his book, clutched to his chest, to the door with him. Onie offered to go with him, but he shook his head.

"You're too big. I can sneak out and back in without being seen." She grinned back at his practicality and he left. Going back to her desk, she reread the letter fragments again. Then she picked up a clean parchment and a pen, dipping it into the ink.

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Sami,

I know who your father is. One of his relatives is in some of my classes at the Collegium and told me about your father, Kendron Jestren, and Lady Delias and why Mec had to leave Haven and come back home and not tell anyone why. When you are alone, show this letter to your mother. What happened is hers to tell. I will say nothing to anyone else about it, not even Ma and Pa, without her say so.

Love,

Onie

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**- - - End Part 12**


	13. Chapter 13

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 13**

* * *

"I think it was tha first time since she'd gone to tha Healers tha' she'd even been outside tha House'a'Healing."

Lillis pricked up her ears as Onie told her about the afternoon meeting with Saston and Chellie. They were together at the stone fence at the edge of Companion's Field, facing the Palace and Collegium across the Terilee. Saston's introduction to Chellie had gone well after an initial wariness between the two in the outdoor garden by the House of Healing. There was still no snow, but it was chilly and everyone wore cloaks; the flowers were all gone, trees bare of leaves, the hedges and evergreens dark and leafy.

"You don't look sick," Saston had finally stated.

"I'm getting better," Chellie replied.

"Did your uncle hit you, too?"

That rendered Chellie speechless for a moment before she answered that her cousins most often delivered the beatings, especially when she was Saston's size. Healers Luba and Ingress stayed back with unconcealed interest while the two got acquainted. It was a short meeting, but a pleasant one. Onie did not know if there would be more; the little boy and the aspiring young woman had little in common, but afterwards Luba told her that it was a significant accomplishment for Chellie to introduce herself with her true identity.

Lillis swished her tail, wondering if she would be allowed an introduction to Chellie as well.

"Aye?" She sat back. "Sorry, I didna think o'ye, Chellie stayin' inside all that time an' all. An' ye know how Healer Luba gets upset 'bouts seein' ye indoors." She grinned.

Lillis huffed.

"But Luba says tha' she's encouragin' Chellie ta take more outside air an' I'm sure I can bring'er over here sometimes when she's use'ta bein' out."

A white Companion trotted toward them from out of a copse of trees, drawing their attention. Lillis's her ears pricked up to attention.

Bronner Childorn riding Hyer on a plain leather work saddle stopped before them.

"Good afternoon."

"Afta'noon," Onie answered back.

Childorn dismounted. Hyer wandered to the side and started grazing; Lillis flicker her ears toward him, but he ignored her.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me make my escape the other day." He slowly strolled in her direction.

"No trouble."

"And I've got an offer that I think will suit you." He took a seat on the stone fence just out of arm's reach.

"Aye?"

Childorn smiled. It was a very cunning expression that Onie mis-trusted. "They tell me that no one can lie to you without you knowing about it, not by means of Magic or any other way."

"Aye."

"They don't quite know what to do with you, but if someone told me that I could have a secretary in a negotiating room who could without fail tell me if the person on the other side of the table was truthful on not, I'd say that was one of the most valuable tools you could give me."

Onie puzzled over that statement. What did 'they' want to do with her? What negotiating room? What was a secretary? She had heard of the position before, but never had a reason to know what it was other than there was a lot of parchment and writing involved and a secretary was not the same as a scribe.

"That don' tell me what ye wants."

"Fair enough. What I need is your services. If I am to negotiate for the Queen, I'll take all the help I can get. And yours is a unique talent that I can use."

His offer suddenly sounded a lot more important than anything Onie thought she was prepared for. "What ye negotiatin' fer the Queen for?"

"Trade," he declared, his voice low and definite. "That would seem to be what I was Chosen for."

Hyer ignored him and continued muzzling the grass.

"For the first time ever, Valdemar has lands on its southern and eastern borders that are seriously interested in trade. Karse, Hardorn, _Iftel_." He shook his head over the last one. "It's been building up since the end of the Mage-storms, slow for the first few years, but people are starting to notice. Towns charging their own taxes to cross their roads. Fees for just crossing a border. Lords and priests looking for a cut on a merchant's business for their 'protection'." Childorn snarled this last word out with distaste. "This is on top of the smuggling and banditry that goes on. It's getting out of hand and the Crown has noticed. So, since Valdemar seems to be in the middle of all this and in the best shape after all the wars we've seen, they're working on plans to invite all the neighboring lands to settle things, so a merchant knows what they'll have to pay on the way from Jkartha to Haven. Or anywhere else."

"Didna think that buyin' an' sellin' was anythin' tha Crown got inta."

He smiled under his gray mustache. "The Crown doesn't do any of the buying and selling. But it does care if its people get fed and prosper, and buying and selling is how they do it."

Onie supposed that had to be true. She saw plenty of selling and trading back home at the Ox and Cart when she was a cook there.

"I don' know nothin' 'bout no buyin' an' sellin'."

"You don't need to. I just need someone who can pass me signals in a trade treaty negotiation about who's telling the truth and who's hiding something or outright lying. And the only reason why you might be there in the room with me is as my personal secretary. So, I suppose that means you'll have to keep track of everything I'm doing and write up anything official. I hope your pen work is readable, at least Dean Teren though it was."

"And I'd be writin' all this up fer tha Crown? Like maybe tha Herald reportin' that I learn about in class?"

"Apparently so." He grimaced, a very sour expression on his hook-nosed face. "They seem to keep records for everything. When I was out trading the most important things - - the _only_ things - - that needed accounting for was the money and the goods. And an honest accounts man to keep the books. But they keep track of a lot more here. Life used to be a lot simpler . . ." He shook his head, gazing at Companion's Field.

Onie shrugged. "Well, I'm here ta serve thea Crown wi' Lillis. An' if they says tha' I can do tha' by writin' down what ye does, then I'll do that. Don' know when I'll be doin' it, wit' me classes an all."

"You can start by helping me with _my_ first class. Apparently I don't know enough Valdemar law to suit then. So, I'll be joining you tomorrow. Maybe you could help me catch up. Prince Daren assured me that it is lot easier to learn sitting in the class and asking questions than reading the books by yourself."

"I'm jus' learnin' it meself, so I donna knows how much help I'll be. When do we start negotiatin'?"

Childorn grinned and his face changed from grim gloom to mischievious. "Next spring at the earliest. If I can make a case for the Queen to host the party." He turned toward two mounted Heralds approaching them. "And I'm sure I can."

Onie resisted the urge to the hop down and curtsie to the Queen and Consort and Lillis narrowed her eyes toward her, a reminder that Selenay had said, more than once, that she wished to be treated like another Herald. Childorn seemed to have no need of reminding as he sat back and folded his arms over his chest under his cloak.

"Afternoon, Selenay, Daren. Good day for a ride."

"Afternoon, Bron," Prince Daren answered for both of them. "Glad to see you two together. Have you accepted Bron's offer, Onie?"

"Don' see na reason why I shouldn't." She shrugged. "Tho' I'm still na sure 'bout what a secretery does. An I don' know wheres I'll do it wit' me classes and chores."

Childorn laughed. "We'll work something out."

"I'm sure Dean Teren can accommodate your arrangement," Selenay assured her. "I'm pleased to see that someone here has a need for your Gift. Anything else you need, Bron, just ask."

"Well, maybe you could start sending out envoys inviting people to that Trade Assembly that we need."

Selenay grimaced. "You'll have to do a better job of convincing the Council that it's necessary and when to hold it before that can happen."

Bron sneered at the absent Queen's Council members. "It would help if some of them would look me in the eye. And if some of your Heralds would stop tip-toeing around Hyer." The big Companion grazing by himself flicked his ears in agreement.

"Well, some of us have been concerned about some of you recent . . . outbursts."

Daren's tone was gentle, but it was clear that Childorn had done something dramatic. Bron's face hardened. He was not proud of whatever he had done.

"Well, it's true," he finally stated, "I'm damaged goods. Along with that sorry old beast over there. But a man and a Companion don't like always being reminded of it all the time."

"Nor do we," the Queen answered back softly.

A wry smile curled the old merchant's lips. "I'll have to keep working on that."

"We all will," Daren agreed. "Good day to you both. I'll look forward to seeing you convincing the Queen's Council about your Trade Assembly." He winked and the royal couple and their Companions moved on. Daren at least liked the idea already.

"So, whad'ya do?" Onie finally demanded when they were alone again, still sitting on the fence.

Her question startled him. "Not shy at all, are you?"

"If it's somethin' tha makes tha Queen nevous, I gots a right ta know." If she was supposed to act as this man's secretary she needed to know the worst.

"Well," he hesitated. Hyer snorted without raising his head. "The Queen introduced me to her Council and told them I was going to advise them on trade. And that Guild flunky Thuslie didn't think much of that and a couple of those Lords started wondering if someone had to come off their positions to make room for someone else because the Council was already too crowded . . . what a bunch of clot-heads. I don't know how the Queen puts up with it."

Onie folded her arms across her chest and waited for him to continue. Hyer snorted again.

"And I saw Selenay looking at Daren and I just knew they were Mind-Speaking and I thought about me and Euliss and I just broke down right there. Had to put my head between my knees. That stopped things for awhile before I put myself back together."

"Aye, that would shut people up fer awhiles," Onie agreed. "What should I do if ye puts yer head between ye knees?"

"There's nothing you can do. Just wait for it to pass. Like me."

"Does Hyer do that, too? When anyone mentions his first Chosen?"

The Merchant's Companion lifted his head, blue eyes aimed at Onie. Lillis's eyes widened, shocked that Onie would ask such a thing. Childorn laughed.

"You are not shy at all!" He went on laughing and finally, wiping his eyes continued. "No. Hyer doesn't do that. He's had a lot more practice at this than I have. Years more." Looking toward his Companion with a sadly fond expression, he wiped his eyes again.

Another Companion walked toward them, Capar with Saston mounted on his modified saddle. The young boy's brown eyes stared at the older man. Capar touched his nose to Lillis's neck as he always did in greeting and she amiably returned it. Hyer ignored them both but a flick of his ears served as some kind of acknowledgement. Onie noticed that while his head was down, he was hardly eating the grass at all, just chewing the tops of the blades like a nervous habit.

Childorn stared back at the tiny boy on top of the huge stallion.

"That's quite a lot of Companion you've got there young man."

Capar rumbled his annoyance. _He'll get bigger._

"I hope so for both your sakes." Childorn sounded sincere at least when he answered Capar. Looking higher he addressed Saston. "I'm Bron Childorn. People call me Bron. Who might you be?"

"People call me Saston," he answered, speaking loudly.

"Just that? Saston?"

Saston's feigned confidenece wavered a little and he glanced toward Onie for support. "I haven't picked another name yet."

Bron's brows rose. "Well, then you're luckier than most of us. We just have to take what's handed down to us whether we like it or not."

That seemed to surprise him, that his lack of a father's name could be called 'luck' and he responded with a shy half-smile. Bron grinned back but followed up with a warning. "Just don't rush into anything too quickly. Whatever you pick will follow you around for the rest of your life."

* * *

**- - - End Part 13**


	14. Chapter 14

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 14**

* * *

Chellie held the small scrap of fabric up to the hank of the fine thread. Then she put it down and laid the two hanks, the slightest shade of blue apart from each other, on it. Onie pointed.

"I likes that one."

Chellie still looked undecided. "Can we hold them up to the window?"

"Oh, of course, my dear!" The shopkeeper plucked the hanks and fabric off the counter and went to the window. "I can see you have a sharp eye." She winked and stepped back. The other customers in the dressmaker shop were being helped by two girls who looked alike enough to the older woman to be her daughters and probably were. In sunlight the two blues on the beige fabric were not nearly so similar.

With much encouragement, Chellie had become accustomed to being seen outside on daily walks on the grounds around the House of Healing. Onie had even brough Lillis over for an outdoor introduction. But the young girl could not be coaxed any further lest anyone from the Collegium see her and start asking questions. The _hertasi_ couple in the palace had found an incentive that finally got her out into Haven where Luba and all her fellow Healers' encouragement had failed. They had simply announced that they did not have the right kind of embroidery threads to finish the last dress for her and that she would have to go into Haven to pick the colors she wished and bring them back.

It was possible that Luba had a hand in the request, Onie did not know, but the Healer did ask her to go with Chellie. Onie donned a cloak and the dress that she had worn the day she had been Chosen (Chellie wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible) and accompanied her. She also put on a scarf to tie back her long brown hair; it was the same color as the one that Chellie wore to hide her very short hair.

Finally sighing, she made her choice, a blue that was a very close match to her eyes. Onie took out the coins that Luba had given her and paid the shopkeeper for three hanks of threads, enough for the new dress. Tucking it away in her bag, Onie put the strap over her shoulder as they stepped outside into the busy lane. Next to her, Chellie looked both ways before joining her. No one paid any attention to the young girl and she was considerably less fearful than she had been a candlemark ago when they left the Palace gate.

"Um, is that the way back to the Palace?" Chellie pointed.

"No, it's this way." They got to the end of the lane of shops and walked on the side of the street with the other shoppers; carts and wagons and horses passed by in the street. Onie did not go out in the city too often, but she had been out to see the sights for Harvest Festival and she was pretty good at finding her way once she'd been to a place. Sunwing had attributed that to her Ground Gift, but she did not think that anyone needed a Gift to just know where they were going.

"So, ye wants somethin' ta eat?" There were two taverns up ahead and another visible across the street and down a lane. "Might be nice ta have a change from what they gots in tha House 'a'Healing."

That fearful look crossed over Chellie's face again, but it did not take hold; she nodded. Onie picked the first place up ahead. It was large and newly swept with front window panes and candles inside in back where Chellie insisted on sitting. They asked for stew and bread and water and the bar maid left to get their lunch.

"Ye looks like someone's gonna jump out an' grab ye," Onie finally commented after their food and drink arrived and Onie paid and after they had eaten most of it, Chellie staring down at her bowl the whole time. There were only a few midday patrons at the other tables where they kept to themselves and their food and ale. Chellie sighed, looking a little embarrassed and unhappy.

"I just don't want my cousin seeing me. He'll recognize me no matter what. Or the cook or the gardener." Onie had not made any more trips to covertly look at Munthunt House, but Chellie had confirmed the identities of the three people she had seen in the yard.

"Haven's a mighty big town. Not likely theys gonna show up jus' where ye is."

Chellie gave her a weak smile. "I know. But I keep thinking they'll show up around the next corner."

"I know I have to leave the Healers. I-I know I can't stay there forever," she blurted out guiltily.

"Tha Healers . . . they wants ye ta be well. But ye's right, ye can't stay. But Luba . . . she's been right impresses wit' ye work there. Did na think no son . . ." the word was out before she realized it, but she kept going . . . " of a Lord would work so hard fer yer keep."

Chellie laughed. "She never met Lord Drogon. Even he chops wood at the manor. Everything we do is supposed to be for the land. 'Land is work' he says. So, everyone works if they're able."

Onie was surprised. "Don' usu'ly hear things like that from Lords. They's like 'I'm tha Lord an ev'ryone else does what I says."

"Lord Drogon's just like that. Everyone does what he says, or else. But . . ." she shrugged her narrow shoulders, "he doesn't have anyone do what he won't do himself."

"I s'pose that's fair. Better'n a lot'o other Lords who thinks they's more special than ev''ryone else."

"Lord Drogon doesn't think he's more special than everyone else because everyone else is supposed to be like him."

"And yer not like him."

That got a sad smile and an aborted laugh in return. "No. If you're a man, you're supposed to like to fight and hunt and ride horses and plow ground and build things and dance around fires naked. If you don't, there's something wrong with you, like Forsetch the weaver, or any of the other craftsmen or cooks in the villages. Even Telsen, he's got an Earth Sense and he's learning from Ma Mersin in Muntfort how to feel the land. Lord Drogon says he should, since he's got the Gift, but you can tell he looks down on Telsen, like he's not a whole person, a whole man." She sighed and abandoned the scraps left in her bowl, leaving the spoon on the table. "I wish I could do what they do, go out in the fields and touch the plants and the ground and smell the air for when the seasons change. No one thinks anything about Telsen learning from an old woman all day. But I don't have the Gift for it." Her blue eyes peeked to the side toward Onie.

"But I think I know what I can do," she confided. "I've been talking to Thel and Redni," she named the older _hertasi_ couple living in the Palace, "and they say they'll show me how to sew dresses. I showed them my embroidery." She looked down. "It's not very good, but they say I can learn better from them."

Onie had seen her with an embroidery hoop in her room. Lady Delias had shown her how to do it, but she had always been too afraid to do much stitching back home in case anyone caught her.

"Then ye could apprentice ta a dressmaker here in town, maybe?"

"Yes," Chellie answered with rising enthusiasm, "then I could be free; I'd have my own life."

"Lord Drogon's still ye guardian."

Onie immediately regretted reminding her because she became downcast again. "I know. I wish . . . I wish Roston Jestren could just die. Then I'd _really_ be free. But . . . " her shoulders slumped, "Healer Luba says they can't do that because the Queen made Lord Drogon my protector when he made Kendron his heir."

"Can't do what?" Onie asked cautiously. She pushed aside her own empty bowl and lean forward over the table. Did Chellie want to die? She always seemed fearful and shy, but she never mentioned death, even when she talked about wanting to be castrated.

"Tell the courts that Roston Jestren is dead, make it official, write it down and seal it. Then I wouldn't have to go back, ever."

"Oh, I s'pose tha' would make an end. But ye'd be cut off from all ye family, if theys though ye was dead. I know theys don' take well ta tha way ye is, but they didna sound all bad." Though she feared violence from Drogon and his men, Chellie had spoken well of her brother, sister and mother at times. Even Lord Drogon's wife had been kind to her. And if she could have attained her dream of being magically transformed into a real girl, she thought she could have been accepted by them.

"I know. And Lady Delias would be all alone. I thought that if I could get away, then she could, too. And I could be a real girl for her, too." Her voice became almost inaudible as she muttered this confession. Onie's eyes widened. Chellie was not only a girl in a boy's body, she also liked girls the same way boys did.

Not knowing what to say, Onie sat in silence with her for awhile. She reflected that her old life might have been boring, but it was a lot less confusing.

They got up and left the tavern and walked in silence together. On a long empty stretch of walkway passing by the high-walled homes of the Highborn, Onie finally asked, "Do ye loves Lady Delias, then?"

Blue eyes fearful, Chellie looked surprised. "Uh, I-I-I never thought about it. I don't know."

"But ye does like girls; tha same as boys likes girls."

She nodded. "Lady Delias . . . she's the only one who accepted me as a girl. I-I guess I love her for that, but I never wanted to lie with her."

"Well, she's a bit older'n you anyways."

Chellie smiled back. She had told Onie how Lady Delias had discovered her secret. As her servant Chellie (as Roston) was in charge of her closet. One day she could not resist trying on one of the dresses when she thought her mistress was out. But Lady Delias caught her and cried. Not because the boy put on one of her gowns, but because she saw Chellie's situation as tragic as hers. After that they were able to talk.

"An' she's married to yer brother," Onie added.

"Oh, that doesn't matter. Kendron stays with a woman in the village sometimes. Nobody talks about it, but everyone knows. Delias is happy for him. And Kendron doesn't hate her anymore; he doesn't hold grudges like her father. He's usually kind to her. But his woman hates Lord Drogon and wouldn't live in the manor, not even to be with him. They have children; I think Lord Drogon wanted Kendron to have another boy for an heir, but after their fourth girl they stopped."

"Hmmm, I better warn Sami tha'ee's got four half-sisters. An' girls kin be heirs, too. Look at tha Queen. An' Princess Elspeth was heir before she gave it up ta be a Mage."

"Not for Lord Drogon. He'd never trust that any future husband of a female heir wouldn't turn all the land into farms as soon as he inherits it. He trusts Kendron. He'd never tear down the forest. But a new husband marrying into the manor, who hasn't been raised to respect the land might do anything with it."

They continued on to the Palace, talking about Chellie's family as they went. She wanted to get her things and the small amount of money she had saved back in her room in Munthunt House, but didn't know how she could retrieve it. Onie suggested that she just give a note and a key to one of the Healers; they could be trusted, but that was not the problem. If anyone came to collect all her things, her cousin would have to demand to see her, to know where she was since he was responsible for her. When the Healers told him she was ill, they discouraged him from visiting and he did not try very hard. He did send infrequent messages inquiring about her health, but the last message had included some coin, a generous 'donation' to the House of Healing in 'gratitude' for their care of Lord Drogon's ward. Chellie knew that only Lord Drogon could have ordered that. Word had reached Munthunt Hill about her illness. How long would it be before her cousin started demanding to see her to report back to Drogon?

They parted after re-entering the Palace grounds. Chellie went back to the House of Healing. She needed an escort to go into the Palace to deliver the threads to the _hertasi_ couple and Luba had promised Chellie that she would try to find a way to release her from Lord Drogon's guardianship. Onie did not hear very much hope in her tone when she mentioned it.

It was too close to dinner for Onie to do anything more than wash up and do some studying for her classes. And after her meal she had more studying, with Bronner Childorn since part of her work as his secretary was helping him catch up on the Valdemar Law one class that he was obliged to take at the Collegium.

He arrived soon after she returned to his room. Bron had taken a small room in the Palace for his living space. Onie had never seen it since it was on the third floor. Bron said that her room was bigger than his anyway.

"Oh, that's a nice one." He reached out and Onie let him take the map that she was preparing to roll up. He put aside the heavy book he came with and held the map high in the yellow lantern light. "There's nothing better than a good map when you're out on the road. And you really get to miss the quality of roads they keep up here in Valdemar when you get south into Menmellith. Ugh, never liked the place. You studying this for some class?"

"Tryin' to. I canna get no feel fer geography. It's all lines onna page an'names 'n places I nev'r been. I'm s'pose'ta remember all these things, but it don' stay in me head."

"Really? Well, I guess everyone can't be as well traveled as I am. And it helps a lot with remembering if you've been to these places. Where have you been, Onie?"

"Well, I been home in Fair Fields, Kettlesmith a few times, on the road up here where I gots Chosen and here in Haven."

He waited for more. She did not add any.

"I suppose that might make things harder if everything is just words on a page," he conceded, "but I can give you a few pointers on the map." He held it up flat, horizontal with the floor. "Which way is north?"

She looked at the little arrow that was supposed to point north on the map and back up at him. "How do ye mean?"

He grinned. "Which way is north in this room?"

She looked around. She could point to where Companion's Field was and the Palace and the Collegium buildings and the gate outside, but 'north' was for outside, pointing to the sun and stars and only meant something if a road was going in that direction.

"Don' know."

He pointed in the general direction of the stables. "It's that way. Always know where north is. You never know when you might need it. Now," He turned to face toward the stables, "the map and land are both pointing the same way." The little north arrow pointed toward the stables.

"Now picture this map as being the land and you're a giant standing on it. If you're here at the bottom, you're in the south of Rethwellen. If you're facing north and moving forward, you're heading toward Valdemar."

"I'd be a mighty big giant if that part there is all'o Valdemar."

"It doesn't matter. It's just a picture in your mind that helps you remember what's around you. And if you walk through these forests and step over these mountains and cross this land here, you'll be back in your home town, right here." The map flapped downward on the sides as he used one hand to point to the dot that said 'Fair Fields'.

"Now, what do you see if you turn to your right."

"Kettlesmith," she said right away with surprise. It did seem to make more sense if she pictured herself on the map and looking around her.

"See, you can do it." He let the map fall on one side and expertly rolled it up; then he frowned at the desk. "A nice map like this should have a leather tube to put it in, not just a tie." He picked up the ribbon and tied a neat bow before putting the map down. "It's a lot of work making them and I know. I've had to make some of my own on my travels. I certainly hope they'll be teaching you the right skills for that."

Her eyes widened with a little alarm. It was hard enough learning to read the maps, but making them? "Havna heard anythin' about that."

He scowled. "Now I'm beginning to wonder about the quality of the education you're getting. I'll have to talk to the Dean about that. But first - -" he picked up the weighty volume of Valdemar Law that he had come with, " - - we're supposed to be prepared for a talk about land rights," he scowled with distate under his graying mustache, "for class tomorrow."

* * *

**- - - End Part 14**


	15. Chapter 15

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

* * *

**- - - Part 15**

"What's that?"

Everyone turned to look. A repeated distance sound came close enough to be heard.

"ONIE!"

Healer Luba shouted, her green robes distinct on the stone bridge to Companion's Field. A second woman in blue came after her.

"ONIE!"

Lillis trotted in her direction and the rest of the equitation class followed, Saston and Capar, Bron and Hyer, Slatha and Elleed, Cheeter and Thad. Herald Ezor, their usual instructor, was absent, leaving Cheter and Thad to take them through the day's jumping practice.

"ONIE!"

Onie was surprised; she had never seen the stout Healer run and she was so out of breath by the time they met that she was momentarily speechless and gasping. The other, taller woman appeared to be more fit but still held her side and looked up at them, her blue eyes desperate.

"Chellie's cousins - - " gasp " - - have kidnapped her!" Gasp "They're going to - - " gasp " - - take her back to the north - - " gasp " - - I need you to to stop it!"

"Aye? How could they come in an' take'er from tha House'a'Healing?"

"Who's Chellie?" Slatha wondered out loud.

"They didn't come in. They grabbed her when she came out to meet Delias here." Gasp. Luba waved in the general direction of the woman behind her as she patted her stomach as if to will her body to breathe slow enough to speak "They're taking her out of the city. You have to go after them." Gasp. "Right now!"

_Delias? LADY Delias?_ Onie gaped at the woman that Chellie had told her about. Wasn't she up north, practically a prisoner of her father?

"We have to go, RIGHT NOW! They're taking Chellie out of the city!" Luba reached for the stirrup. "Now help me up!" Onie took her hand, pulled and Luba scrambled up behind her.

"What ya need me fer?"

"To catch them!" Lillis hopped as Luba's heels jabbed her flanks. The angry Healer pointed at Bron. "And I need you, too!"

"Me?"

"I need a Herald!"

"I'd be happy to go find one for you." Bron's lip curled up.

"I need a Herald to transfer Lord Drogon's guardianship of Chellie to Onie!"

"_Me?_" Onie turned to gape at the woman behind her, the straps holding her in the saddle straining on her legs and waist. "Why me?"

"You're both aunts to the same nephew! That makes you family and I can use that to break Drogon's claim on her!"

"Please!" Delias pleaded up to Bron. "My father has sent his men to take Chellie back. He wants to take him on the sacred hunt at Yule to make a man out of him. But it'll kill him and it's my fault he found out about him!" Delias made a move to climb up, but Hyer backed up a pace with an offended huff.

"Him?" Cheeter asked; Thad's head lifted up in curiosity.

"I know Chellie," Saston's high voice announced. Capar stepped forward and Delias in all her blue skirts scurried up behind him with amazing speed. She clearly knew her way around a saddle.

"Wait." Bron held up a hand. "This Chellie, whoever he is, is somehow related to my secretary here," he pointed at Onie, "and needs to be rescued from your," he pointed at Delias, "father's men. Have I got that right?"

"Yes!" Luba shouted. "And we don't have time to wait! They're taking her out of the city, _right now!_" Lillis shifted her stance as Luba's heels jabbed her again. But Bron and Hyer seemed only casually interested.

"So, if this Chellie has been taken by her father's men, do you think they'll kill him?"

"Aye," Onie nodded. "From what she's said about'm an' tha rest o'er family, they'll take'er out ta tha woods an make'er inta one'o them'er have'er die in tryin'." There had been no reason for her to talk about Chellie with Bron and she dreaded that he might start asking more questions that they did not have time for. "An' I thinks wees gots ta go now, if we's ta catch'em."

"Should we call the guards?" Cheeter asked.

"By all means," Bron invited, "Let them know what's going on. But for now, if Onie thinks this Chellie needs rescuing, we'll just get started on that." Hyer snorted and Bron's eyes narrowed. "I've done this kind of thing a few times before. How are they traveling?" He suddenly barked.

"We don't have ti - - -"

Bron cut the Healer off. "How are they traveling? Horse, caravan, foot, Gryphon? And how many of them are there? We can't catch them if we don't know what we're looking for. And where are they heading?

"There are four of them. And Chellie," Delias called back. "They have horses and a wagon with a green canvas cover. They're going back to my father's manor at Munthunt Hill - - "

"I know where that is. They're going north." Bron grinned back, a sinister-looking leer. Hyer lifted his head. "Keep up if you can."

As one, they wheeled around and Hyer bolted away toward the Palace. Lillis and Capar leaped after them. Leaning forward over her Companion's neck Onie grabbed the pommel and immediately after that, Luba's arms clamped around her waist. Even at full gallop, a Companion's stride was as smooth as a walk; it was the grass and the bridge and the pathways whirling by that were terrifying.

They only slowed down enough to let the guards jump to comply to Bron's shouted command to open the gate and then they were out, racing down past the walls of the highborn houses, Lillis keeping pace half a stride behind Hyer, Capar pounding behind them, the faint chime of his hooves a lower tone than the other two.

Lillis's white mane whipping on her face, Onie shut her eyes for a moment, but it did not help the queasiness working its way up her body. She was already strapped to the saddle, so she couldn't fall at least. She had ridden Lillis at a full gallop before, for very short, straight burst in Companion's Field where there weren't twisting streets and corners along with wagons to dodge and people jumping out of their way.

Prying one hand off the pommel, she laid it on the Lillis's neck as if she could will her Companion to keep going. She had to be able to do this if she was to be a Herald.

The streets became more crowded and the Companions' run became more acrobatic as they dodged around and between laden wagons, carriages, animals and shouting people. Wooden building, signs and walkways flew by at unnatural angles as Lillis nibly kept pace. Nauseating, thicker smells came with the heavier crowds, food, sawdust, hay, and animal and people wastes. Onie clenched her teeth, still pressing her hand to Lillis. How much of a head start did Lord Drogon's men have? Were they already out of the city?

"There!" Delias shrieked. "There! Up ahead!"

Something crashed onto a wooden walkway as Lillis dodged right after Hyer. They were on an incline, a line of slow moving wagons on their left. Onie flinched right as a stack of planking sticking out from an over-burdened wagon whizzed by. She was not helping Lillis at all as her rider, Onie realized miserably. She was just a weight on her Companion's back. Nearly two seasons of equestration classes seemed to have fled her mind completely.

"Stop!" Delias shouted from behind. "STOP."

They suddenly slowed to a fast trot.

"Stop! Stop in the name of the Queen!" Bron Childorn's voice boomed, suddenly loud and commanding. Onie saw a dark forest green canvas on her left and she forced herself to sit up part way as the came alongside the stopped wagon and Luba's let go her grip on her middle. Hyer had taken a position blocking the two big draft horses in front.

"Where is he?! Where is he, Tomis?!" Delias demanded, her long red hair wild and untied. Little Saston's eyes were huge with worry about the state of his passenger.

A bearded man on a black horse facing Capar sat defiantly in his staddle. "You've got no business stopping us, Milady. We have a letter from Lord Drogon himself commanding us to take Lord Kendron's brother back so he can be cleansed of whatever foul witchery you've infected him with on the next Yule. And we'll tell the Queen that, too!" he added with a scowl toward Childorn.

Bron folded his arms over his chest. "Really?" His lips curled up with sinister amusment. "I think that can be arranged."

Behind Onie, Luba turned, throwing her body to the side so she could slide down off the saddle. "Where is she? What have you dung-heads done to her?" She did not wait for an answer as she hurried to the back of the wagon. Another man on a horse moved to stop her but Lillis wheeled around and snapped at the animal, forcing it back. Onie would have loved to have joined Luba back on solid ground, but she was still tied to her saddle and she wasn't sure if her knees would hold her up properly. She hoped that glare she gave the horseman was more threatening than ill.

They heard more shouting from the men at the front of the wagon and from Luba, but the Healer apparently did not need their help. A moment later she emerged with Chellie. Barefoot, she wore a long, ill fitting brown tunic and pants. Dark hair ragged, her face was bruised, one blue eye half shut and swollen. Onie sat up straighter, the sight of the young girl firming up her resolve. Then suddenly Delias rushed around to the back of the wagon and fell to her knees embracing the girl and crying.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. He found your letter. I was so careless." Chellie embraced the woman, her face wet as well.

Tomis, Bron and Saston, still in their saddles came around and looked down at the reunion. Bron's eyes narrowed at the sight of the bruises on Chellie's face.

"You bully-boys never think about the damage you do when you're having your fun," Luba accused. She bent and urged the two kneeling on the ground to stand. "Get up, get up. Chellie, go with Delias. We're going back to the Palace to fix this."

With Delias helping, they went to Capar. Both of them were slender and the stallion was so big and broad that there was plenty of room. Saston's wide eyes followed them and Onie knew that his fear was earned from his own painful experience at the hands of his uncle. But the boy's expression changed to angry determination; he would have fought Chellie's kidnappers himself to keep her safe from them.

"Tomis!" A shaggy old gray-beard stuck his head out of the back of the wagon. "You can't let them take that boy back! Look at what they done!" He held up the torn and ragged remains of Chellie's blue dress. Outraged, Luba ran to him.

"Give me that! Give me that you old dog turd!"

The man drew back, but held the dress up high out of her reach. Tomis nudged his black horse forward and he took it. He eyed the sizable crowd that had formed around them, people who had stopped in their daily routine to see the show. There was no chance of them defying a Herald in Haven. Tomis backed his horse up to face Bron and shook the tattered dress out and held it up.

"I don't need any more proof to make Lord Drogon's case to you or anyone else, Herald. Take us to whatever judge your want."

Bron's thin lips curled in a sinister smile, showing his small even teeth. "I'd be happy to." If Tomis was intimidated, he did not show it. He ordered the other man on horseback, whose name was apparently Grigor, to come with him and the others to take the wagon back to the house. Luba hustled back to Lillis and Onie helped her up.

They left with a collective sigh of disappointment in their wake from the crowd that had hoped to see more action. Onie breathed deep and her stomach and vertigo subsided as Lillis adopted her well-practiced trot, always keeping at least one foot on the ground. The ride back to the Palace only got a few curious looks from the people they passed. The Companions conspired, by trotting two or three abreast, to always keep the northmen riders behind them the whole way back to the Palace.

Once inside the horses were handed over to the grooms and the Companions went their own way back to their stable to be unsaddled. Lillis winked to Onie as she went.

Bron waved his arm, his hand making a 'come here' gesture. "Follow me."

They went into the Palace.

Onie had been told that the Palace of Valdemar was not particularly grand compared to the royal abodes in other countries. Onie accepted this, but she had nothing else to compare it to. It was the grandest building she had ever seen with its tall glass-paned windows, wood inlay floor, carpets, tapestries, high ceilings and abundant candles and lanterns. Covert glances toward the men from the north told Onie that they were beginning to doubt the dare they had accepted from Childorn as they warily looked at their surroundings.

Bron waved them all toward a wide staircase with two guards on either side. The two men from the north were stopped with a command that they would not be permitted any further armed. Their earlier bravado subdued by their surroundings, they surrendered their weapons.

Luba grabbed Onie's hand and she silently nodded back. She could climb all the way up to the Collegium Library and stay long enough to retrieve a book and come right back down. And after their ride through Haven, a short walk up on a non-moving staircase felt like an achievable challenge. Luba walked at her side, but let go her hand and did not otherwise touch.

On the second floor, Bron led them down a couple corridors that ended at a double door flanked by two guards armed with spikes and swords. A page rushed up to intercept him and Bron leaned forward to whisper something to the boy. With a doubtful look on his face, the page slipped inside the doors.

They waited. Bron sighed. The guards' eyes flicked over them and they shifted their positions, fractionally making their weapons more obvious. Delias and Chellie huddled together. Tight-lipped, Luba glared daggers at Bron's back and then glared wors at Tomis and Grigor who stared ahead as if they were about to enter a fighting match with a bear.

The double doors opened, the page stepped aside and they went in.

Queen Selaney and Prince-Consort Daren, both in plain Herald whites, sat in high-backed chairs on either side of a small table. Princess Lyra and Prince Kris, their hair mussed and flecked with bits of straw and leaves sat together on a short divan. Princess Elspeth stood apart from them. Damp dark amber splatters ran down the front of her whites and her hair was wet. None of the royal children looked at their parents or their guests.

"Herald Childorn," the Queen addressed him, her tone cool and formal. "You message said that you an urgent matter to speak with me about?"

"Yes," he answered cheerfully. He extended one arm toward Chellie. "Your help is needed to transfer the guardianship of this young . . . " he paused for a fraction of a second " . . . person from Lord Drogon, to his other relation, " he extended his other arm, "my secretary, Onie Thatcher. Because as you can see, there is some concern about some risk of harm from the northern relations."

Selenay's brows rose. "Come forward."

Trembling, Chellie, clutching her hands together, stepped closer, Lady Delias still at her side.

"Who did this?"

"They did." Bron jabbed a thumb behind him toward Tomis and Grigor.

Frowning, she signaled for them step forward, too. Bowing deeply, they stood before their sovereign. Tomis spoke, his voice steady, his back straight.

"Your Magesty, we have been charged with retrieving the younger brother of Lord Drogon's designated heir, Lord Kendron, and returning him with all due haste to his home to be cleansed of the corruption of Lord Drogon's own daughter!" His voice rose to a ringing accusation. Delias whirled.

"Corruption?! I had NOTHING to do with how the gods have cursed her! You're the ones who are trying to KILL HER!

"WITCH!" Tomis advanced, but she did not back away. "Lord Drogon should have drowned you in the Terilee when - - "

"Silence!"

Prince Daren's command startled them out of their argument and they jumped apart. Tomis recovered first.

"Apologies, your Majesties, but when we came to take young Roston back to his home, he was wearing THIS!" He held up the tattered remains of Chellie's dress. It looked like they just cut it off of her. Folding her arms over her chest, Onie looked away and reminded herself that the floor in this room was nice and solid and not so high up off the ground. But her stomach did not agree. Her eyes fell upon a waste can by a wall cabinet by the door, but instead of the usual wicker, it was metal, with the crest of Valdemar on it. She thought she could reach it in three or four strides, if she had to. For now, she was hoping that she wouldn't; she kept reminding herself again that the Collegium Library was much higher than this room and she had not had too much trouble going up there and back.

Luba rushed forward, her broad body bobbing a curtsy. "Your Majesty, Healer Ingress and I and four others have examined Chellie here. The goddess has played a cruel game with her; she was born in the body of a boy, but in heart and spirit, she is a girl." She pointed at Tomis. "These men refuse to accept that, as well as her guardian, Lord Drogon."

"It is NOT young Roston who has been played poorly by the gods!" Grigor stepped forward, shaking a fist, "but Lord Drogon, who has been cursed with a daughter who has corrupted him so!"

"Your Majesty, it is true," Tomis pleaded a little more diplomatically, "Lady Delias has caused one calamity after another her whole life, and Lord Drogon, to his bitter regret, has taken the brunt of her lies and deceits. And now she has done this!" He held up the tattered dress again and Chellie flinched away from the sight; Lady Delias stared at it as if it was a noose. Luba dove for it and grabbed two good handfuls of the skirt.

"Give that to me you dung-head bully!"

Onie turned her head away, from the impromptu tug-o-war and toward the waste can. The air in the room seemed to thicken and press in vice-like on her head.

"Silence!"

The arguing froze. Prince Daren got up and took the dress from two pairs of unresisting hands. He laid it down on the table next to him and resumed his seat. The Queen let the silence she had created go on a little longer before speaking again.

"Herald Childorn, I am confused. Lord Drogon, his daughter and his men here are from the North. Your secretary, Onie Thatcher, as I understand it, is from the south. How are they related?"

"I'm not quite clear on that myself," he answered, putting a hand on his hip. "Just a candlemark ago this crazy Healer here comes after us about these mountain men kidnapping," he held his other hand out to Chellie, "him or her and that she needed a Herald to transfer his or her guardianship from Lord Drogon to Onie because they had the same nephew - - "

"Your Majesty," Luba elbowed him aside, "Onie Thatcher's older sister, Mec, is the mother of this nephew, who is also the son of Lord Kendron, Lord Drogon's heir, who Lady Delias unfortunately tried to claim as her own son when Mec Thatcher was serving in their house in Haven."

"Mec?!" Delias gasped, wide eyed. "Mec?!"

That surprised Onie. Hadn't Luba told her? The Healer had as good as said that Mec was Onie sister when they came running to Companion's Field. Wasn't Delias listening? She put her head down, trying to balance herself against the increasing pain in her temples and holding her arms tighter to her body. Concentrating on slow, steadying breaths and keeping her body very still so it would not fall over. Heralds endured pain in the bards' tales, but none of the ballads ever said anything about any of them throwing up their lunch.

"Oh, I remember that." Daren turned to his wife. "It happened right after things settled down after the Mage-storms. Lord Drogon's missing grandson. Except it wasn't his grandson after all. Lady Delias here tried to pass off her husband's bastard as her own, but the maid ran off with it and nobody knew where she'd gone."

"Oh, yes." The Queen sighed and rolled her eyes. "That was all anybody would talk about in court for a fortnight." She sat back in her chair and turned to Daren, ignoring the crowd before her. "But it all went away when Lord Drogon left Haven."

"Well, I think it's baaaaaaack." Daren gave her a half grin. Selenay turned back to her audience,

"Onie - - "

Onie Thatcher made it to the can in two-and-a-half strides.

* * *

**- - - End Part 15**


	16. Chapter 16

**GROUNDLING 3: THE TAKING OF NAMES**

by ardavenport

**- - - Part 16**

* * *

"Ooh." Luba, her arm still around Onie's waist, stared forward in amazement. "It's stronger. I really felt that."

They had just stepped down to the ground floor of the Palace. The air had suddenly cleared, Onie would have sworn that she could feel a refreshing breeze on her face. Her headache and nausea fell away from her, dissipating like a fever breaking, the sweat cooling her face.

"Is it always like that for you?" Luba asked, loosening her tight grip, "When you practice on the stairs in the Collegium?"

"Aye." She nodded and wiped long loose strands of her brown hair sticking to her face. It had come undone from her usual braid in the wild ride to rescue Chellie. "But I donna let it go so long." She gave Luba a cross look and then regretted it. Luba was not responsible for her embarrassing herself so badly in front of the Queen.

She tossed her head. "Oh, don't worry about that. That Queen has seen battle. She's seen much worse things than an upset stomach." On their way out, Luba had shoved the metal can and its contents at a Palace page with a curt 'Take care of this.' Onie thought that there was a man on her other arm on their way down the hall and down the stairs - - a guard, maybe? - - but he was gone. Except for the other, usual Palace guards, they were alone.

Luba faced her, her hands on Onie's shoulders, and breathed with her for a moment. Onie swallowed acidic bits of regurgitated food; it hurt going down, but she would not spit in the Palace no matter how badly she needed to.

"It's much stronger," she confirmed, nodding. "Your practice on your Ground Gift is paying off." Then she pulled back, her gaze going back to the stairs. "I have to go back and help Chellie. Go to your room, we'll find you later."

"But - - "

"Go to your room Onie," she commanded, already headed back up. "You can't do any good here."

"But - - "

"Go back to your room, Onie! We'll find you later!"

Luba disappeared around the corner at the top of the stairs. Onie stared at the empty space. An old tapestry hung there, its border of white Companions yellowed with age. The guards on either side of her at the base of the stairs had not moved. Sighing, she dropped her shoulders, turned and left.

She did not run into anyone she knew well in the hallways as she returned their casual, impersonal greetings. She would have liked to go to Companion's Field and see Lillis, but first she went to her washing tub, rinsed her mouth out and drank a lot of water. Lillis would just want to hear everything that happened and Onie didn't know what the end was.

Dragging her feet past her room, she saw a packet of letters in the message box by her door. Stopping, she took it out. It was one bundle, tied securely with string, wrapped around two and three times, both ways with multiple knots. She went into her room to get a knife. It was midday, so there was enough light to read by from the small high windows, even in the shadows of her room. Four sealed letters fell out from the cut strings. Picking up each one, she read the addressee names.

ONIE. In Sami's large letters.

ONIE. In Mec's handwriting.

KENDRON.

DELIAS.

Sitting down, she broke the amber wax seal on the folded parchment from Sami first.

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Onie,

Ma cried when I showed her your letter. Then she run off. Then later she told me that my father was a man from the north and that he was in the Guard during the Mage-storms. She said that his wife could not have children and so she had me for them. But his wife tried to take me from her and so she left. She says she does not know about where he is from. She only saw his house in Haven. But if Ma worked as their servant, then they must be important, if they have a servant to clean for them and a house in the north, too. Is it a big house in Haven?

Ma says she is going to tell Granma and Granpa about my father, but she has not yet. Ma says I cannot tell anyone about my father, but she has not told me anything, so I do not have anything to tell.

Granma and Granpa send their love.

Sami

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Onie could understand why Mec would not give her son any details about how he had come to be. He was too young to hear things like that about his mother. And why would she not tell him he was the son of a lord?

She picked up Mec's letter next and broke the seal.

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Onie,

I feared that this would happen someday. I am glad at least that it was you and not Lord Drogon. He is a man of northern ways and I feared that he would take possession of Kendron's son for his heir. For him, Sami would be a Jestren and one of his own and nothing else. I pray to all the gods and goddesses to protect him from Drogon.

When I left Haven, I feared pursuit from Lord Drogon's men all the way home and for a long time after that. When I first came to Haven I wanted to be a new person, so I never told anyone my whole name or where I grew up. I was fortunate in that because they would not know where to look when I left. But now through you, they can find me. You are a Herald now and I charge you to uphold the Queen's Law to protect your own nephew; I am still Sami's mother and he is my son no less than Kendron's.

Have you met Kendron? Have you met Delias? Are they still in Haven? If they are, I have enclosed letters to each of them. Please deliver them if you can. I hold no ill-will toward either of them, and hope that enough time has passed that the hurt has healed. I have nothing to say to Lord Drogon. I do not know why Kendron and he get along so well. In the short time when he was in Haven, he was arrogant and opinionated and gave no thought to who he might hurt with what he migh have called wit.

I will tell Ma and Pa what happened, but I cannot say everything. Please do not write to them about Sami, even if they ask.

Yours,

Mec

**# # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # # - # # #**

Onie scowled at the page. Her older sister's last request was impossible. How was she supposed to keep things from their parents, especially Sami told them anything? Did she think that their mother or father would want details that she did not have about Kendron sleeping with two women? Did she think that knowledge of that would make them think less of her as a mother?

And now there was the whole complication with Chellie. From the look on the Queen's face when she saw the bruise on the young girl's bruises, Onie was quite sure that she would grant Luba's request.

Sitting back, Onie wondered what that would mean. Would Chellie live with her at the Collegium until she could support herself? Would Chellie be able to resume classes at the Collegium or apprentice with the _hertasi_? She stared at the sealed letters to Kendron and Delias and wondered what was inside, but she would never, ever break the wax seals on them to find out. She needed to write back to Sami and Mec, but she had no idea what to say or what she could say, so she did not get any further than laying out a blank sheet of parchment and shaking her bottle of ink.

She was still staring at that pale, empty page when she heard the commotion of people coming downstairs and down the hall toward her room.

Bron Childorn did not even bother knocking. He just came in with a big grin under his mustache and hook nose, obviously pleased with himself. In followed Luba, a hopeful-looking, but still bruised Chellie and then Delias. Onie stood as the older woman faced her. She was tall and slim and pretty, her thick red hair disheveled. But standing closer to her, Onie could see that there were a few strands of gray and lines around her eyes.

"Thank-you for helping Chellie. I feared the worst when my father found her letter and send his men to bring her back. Kendron let me go after them, but I fear that I led them right to Chellie when I sent her a message to meet me. And thank-you for finding a way for her to be, well, who she is supposed to be." She nodded sadly toward Luba as well. "You've done more than either of us could have hoped for." She licked her lips to compose herself, but her voice strained with held-back tears as she continued.

"But I never, ever expected to hear anything from Mec again. Tell me, is she well. Is Sami?"

Onie reached back, taking the letter addressed to her and held it out. Delias just stared down at it.

"It's from'er. I wrote to'er when I finds out about her and you and Kendron. She don' wan' nobody ta come after her'er Sami, 'specially not yer father, but she don' wish ye no harm neither." Delias took the letter, her eyes wide with wonder.

"An Sami, he's well," Onie went on, "ee looks jus' like Chellie. That's how I knows ta make inquiries about'er ina first place. An'ee looks jus' like'is Pa, from what I hears."

Ripping the letter open, Delias flew to the far side of Onie's bed to read it. Tears appeared in her eyes as they scanned the page, but she did not look sad.

Onie picked up the other unopened letter. "This one's fer Kendron from me sister, Mec, too, but I don' have no way'a getting' it ta him if'ees not'ere, too."

Bron took it. "I'll make sure he gets it. The Queen's still composing her little note to Lord Drogon about her displeasure with how Chellie was treated and relieving him of his guardianship of her." He straightened, looking up as if he could see blue sky. "It made me proud to be wearing these Whites when she reminded those two louts that the highest law of Valdemar is that 'No One Way is the True Way.'" He dabbed at a dramatic and imaginary tear.

"Wish I coulda seen that." Onie regretted her lack of stamina.

Bron stopped posing and held out a parchment with an official seal on it. "You are now the guardian of young Chellie here, until the age of eighteen, or until you deem her to be capable of acting as an adult, whichever comes first." Onie took the official document. It named her as Chellie's sister. Penned by a royal scribe with beautiful curves and curls to the lettering, it was signed and sealed by Queen Selenay.

"But fortunately for you, Chellie will be going back to her old room at Munthunt House where Lady Delias will be spending the winter in the place of the man Drogon has there now." Bron pointed, but Delias did not even notice, joyful tears running down her face as she seemed to re-read Mec's letter.

"She's perfectly capable of handling the family business for her father and maybe a nice cold winter and a dose of humility from the Queen will cool his temper."

Chellie stepped forward. "Thank-you, Onie. I don't think . . . no I know . . . I wouldn't be alive if you hadn't helped." She grabbed Onie in a hug and she returned it.

When they broke apart, Bron looked unaffected by the sentiment. "It's all love and light now, but you two sisters will be fighting with each other soon enough. Believe me, I know what daughters can be like." He gave them a mischievious grin. "But you've got one more request here, Onie." He tiled his head and little Saston peeked his head from behind Luba.

Onie had forgotton that he was even there, but since Chellie and Delias had been riding with him on Capar, he must have followed with everyone else up to their audience with the Queen. Bron made a 'come here' gesture and he walked up to Onie. Both Chellie and Luba were grinning.

"Young Saston here actually asked the Queen to write up a document like that for him. But seeing that he's Chosen, the Crown is already his guardian, but he still has something to ask you." Saston hesitated, his large brown eyes uncertain.

"Come on, son," Bron encouraged, his voice gentle, the mocking tone he used a moment ago completely gone.

"Onie," his high voice timidly asked. "Could I be Saston Thatcher?"

She stared down at him, his choice a complete surprise. Then she smiled and knelt down before him. "Why Saston Thatcher, me and me whole fam'ly would be proud ta have ye."

He threw his arms around her neck and gave her a big long hug.

"Well, Onie Thatcher," Bron announced, "you've got quite a growing family here. New little sister, and a little brother, too."

"Aye." She looked back toward her desk and the blank parchment, pens and ink next to it. "Guess I better write'em all back home and tell'em about it."

* * *

**- - - / - - - / - - - End - - - / - - - / - - -**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** This is a derivative fiction of the Valdemar Universe under Creative Commons license. No measurable monetary profit or compensation for this writer, but lots of fun (which is really what fanfiction is all about anyway). The Valdemar Universe belongs to Marcedes Lackey.


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